Collection 2: What The Hell Was I Thinking?
by Alexandria-likethecityinEgypt
Summary: Here's a collection of deleted scenes and excerpts from many of the stories I've written. They're not edited & often end abruptly. That's the place where I've come to my senses or realized I can't fit them into the plot. They range from K to T for topic. Will contain spoilers. Includes scenes from both Batman & Young Justice storylines. [V. 2 & 3 of Derail's epilogue added.]
1. Intro

As the summary explains, these are scenes that wouldn't work or couldn't fit into the plot. They aren't all that bad, and some are actually very good, thus I saved them to a file rather than get rid of them permanently to maybe use as inspiration in some other story.

As a number of you have commented that you were curious about the pieces that I've talked about having rewritten and since enough of you have shown interest by voting in the poll I had put up on my profile, I have decided to create a collection for you.

They are in random order, for the most part, because it would be difficult to lump them altogether as I will also be posting to stories that are currently ongoing. Feel free to review and ask questions if you like, particularly of the stories that are already completed, or you can 'PM' me if you like.

Keep in mind, if you haven't read the story that the scene or excerpt has come from yet, these may contain spoilers. I've been known to cannibalize some of my deleted scenes for their usable parts, so bits and pieces may even sound a little familiar to you. I give you a brief explanation as to why I chose to not use the scene at the beginning of each chapter.

These are up purely for your enjoyment and to appease your curiosity. I will put up at the top of each chapter what warnings apply, and rate them individually. You will be in charge of monitoring yourself and determining what you can handle reading and what you cannot. These will be rated "K+" or "T", I have deleted the original Chapter 24 and replaced it with another new chapter. It doesn't mean that there won't be a future scene that I rate as "M" but I doubt it will be anything as disturbing as the one I chose to remove.

But, if you have 'triggers', please heed the warnings that I place above each entry. I am trusting you to know your own mind and have a little self-discipline.

Expect some language and the occasional violence. This is me, after all . . . ;D and Enjoy!

~ Alex

 ***There are no "M" ratings in this collection as of this time.***


	2. Last Chance - Obsession

**Here is a deleted scene from early in the story, "Last Chance". Elle's father had warned her that the professional singing careers in her family ended because of obsessive fan behavior. Believing him to be exaggerating, Elle chooses to pursue her dream despite his warning. She and Dick have only been dating a short time when this scene was to occur.**

 **You might recognize some of the beginning of this. I cannibalized it for parts and reused it in the chapter where Elle meets Bruce for the first time. I still incorporate some of the obsessive behavior later in that chapter, but preferred to tone down the violence of it by a lot, and have Dick and Bruce on hand to rescue her before anything untoward could happen.**

 **Last Chance - "Obsession"**

 **Warning: Some Language, and Violence . . . Rated "T"**

* * *

Elle entered her dressing room for her last costume change of the evening. Her brand new career was going startlingly well. She had been gaining a loyal following even before the Chez Donovan promo came out, but ever since the restaurant/club had been featured on the news, the amount of people coming to hear her sing had more than doubled. The only thing that would make the night even better would be for Dick to stroll through the door.

She managed to make it halfway to the rack containing her outfits before she noticed the flowers. Bouquets of roses graced nearly every flat surface in a rainbow of colors. Her breath caught in her throat. A platter filled with notes and cards sat on the edge of her dressing table.

She had only a limited amount of time to find an outfit and change, and normally Elle tried to spend a precious few of those minutes to sit down and rehydrate herself with bottled water the restaurant supplied her, but she couldn't resist. She went to the dozen red roses blocking her view of her mirror. She plucked the card out. Looking for the now familiar script, she tried not to feel disappointment when the hand that wrote this card didn't match Dick's. She read it anyway. After all, someone went to some trouble and no little expense to send the flowers.

"A classic rose for a classic beauty."

Her lips puckered with a vague sense of annoyance. She wasn't blind, nor was she unrealistically modest; Elle knew she was attractive enough. She had even received a couple of invitations to take up modeling at one time or another. But she had never been comfortable with compliments. Being who she was meant no compliment could be taken at face value. Besides, looks were fleeting; easily lost through fate or time. Would the person still want her should her beauty be suddenly stripped from her?

Her hand spread the pile of cards and notes on the platter. Dick wasn't present this evening, she thought. It was unlikely that he had sent her anything. She glanced around at the several other bouquets littering the room. Funny, how she had thought they had added life into the dressing room when she had thought that Dick might have sent them. Now, they were just clutter.

She looked through a few of the cards on the tray: A request to meet her privately; an invitation to dinner; a phone number; a somewhat offensive observation on the size of certain portions of her anatomy; an invitation to a weekend getaway for two on a private yacht; another to a couple of hours of 'fun' at a seedy motel in a distant part of town . . .

The more she saw, the more she was disturbed. She plucked another card from a bouquet of pink daylilies. Please, she begged silently, be from Dick. It wasn't.

"Your voice speaks to my soul . . ."

That, at least, started out well. She didn't mind accepting compliments for her music. If only the sender had stopped at that . . .

"If only your body would also."

Disgusted, she crumpled the card and tossed it into the trash receptacle. The flowers followed. Angry and annoyed, she upended the entire tray of cards into another trash can. The roses were next, then another bouquet, and another until every surface was bare of anything but her make-up and hair accessories.

She dropped into the one comfortable chair in the room. Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking. She had been hit on before, even received her fair share of crude remarks, but somehow the ones today upset her far more than the ones tossed her way outside of construction sites. It didn't make sense for her to be more upset by secondhand vulgarity, but somehow having the remarks immortalized on paper made it far more personal than a distant wolf whistle from the driver of a passing pickup truck.

There was a knock on the door, making her jump. "Ten minutes, Elle."

"Okay," she replied, letting the person know she had heard them.

Leaping to her feet, Elle grabbed the first outfit she came to; a navy blue suit made of crushed velvet, satin, and rhinestone buttons. Kicking off her black pumps, she slid on matching navy slingback heels. She checked her makeup, and was thankful she had as apparently a tear or two had smudged her eyeliner. Touching up her face, she then pulled her hair into a messy bun atop her crown. She artfully repositioned the stray strands, and pulled a few pieces to soften her face. She tucked in a pretty rhinestone comb that would catch and throw the light in a way that would dazzle the audience.

She replaced the dangling earrings with pearl and diamond studs, the only jewelry she kept in her dressing room that had real monetary value. They had belonged to her mother. Esmeralda had been a professional singer in Italy when she had met Elle's father. He had bought her these earrings a few months into their burgeoning relationship. It was silly, but the earrings grounded her; steadied her much the way a beloved stuffed animal might a nervous child.

"Elle, two minutes."

"Coming," she called out.

She chugged a water bottle, tossing the empty bottle into a can with the flowers and cards, checked her lipstick, and rushed back to the stage. For the first time since she had began singing professionally. Elle stepped out on the stage feeling trepidation rather than the exhilaration that she was accustomed to. Her eyes traveled the crowd, flitting over the avid faces, and wondering which of the men present had sent her the flowers; the cards; wondering why the adoration that she had exulted in earlier had taken on a slightly sinister air.

* * *

It was nearly two in the morning when Elle stepped out into the cold October night to await the cab she had just called to take her home. She was planning on lingering in the doorway so as to more easily see her ride's arrival, but remaining close to the safety of the restaurant's doors. But she was unprepared for the sight that greeted her.

At least nine men were loitering on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant. They turned as one the moment the door had opened. The door shut with an ominous click in the first stunned moment that had seemingly paralyzed Elle into immobility.

Shaking off her momentary freeze, Elle immediately turned to rush back inside. Two sets of hands caught her arms on either side, and pulled her away from the building and into the men's midst.

"Wait!"

"Arabella!"

"Miss Hamilton!"

"We only want the opportunity to pay homage to your beauty and talent," said the man on her right.

He was tall; over six feet, she thought distantly. The man on her left towered over her as well. As the other men crowded around her, Elle began feeling panicky; claustrophobic. She couldn't see past them. She tried to turn around, but there were men behind her as well.

Why was she frightened? She had been in crowds before . . . But, of course, no one in those crowds had been focused on her personally. None of the men sounded threatening exactly. They were fans . . . She repeated that mantra in her head. _They are fans!_

A pen and a business card were shoved at her.

She blinked owlishly at the man in front of her. He stood she estimated around five foot nine inches, with blond hair and maybe blue eyes. The dim lighting from a streetlamp wasn't enough for details like that, and the bodies surrounding her prevented much light from the restaurant's front to penetrate.

"You want an autograph," Elle asked, nervously.

"I want your phone number," he growled. "You and I were made to make beautiful music together."

Her mouth dropped open at his audacity. "Really? Has that line _ever_ worked for you before?"

The man blinked at her.

"Ah, yeah," she muttered. "I thought not . . . Listen, fellas? I'd really like nothing better than to stand out here in the cold and listen to you each take turns offending me, but it's been a long day and my cab's going to be here any minute."

One of the men in the back gave the blond in front of her a hard shove, driving the guy into her. His foot stepped on hers, and she would have fallen had the man on her right hadn't still been holding her arm.

"Yeah, buddy. Back off of the lady, why don't you," yelled the dark-haired man in the back.

Blondie turned around, swinging; catching the dark-haired guy in jaw and knocking him back into a third man. And the fight was on . . .

The man who had been holding onto her let go so as to better enter the fray, but it was only a matter of seconds before someone tackled the blond, and they both crashed into her. Elle felt like she was being pummeled as the breath was knocked out of her lungs, the sidewalk slammed into her, and the weight of two large, male bodies landed on top of her.

The men were hauled off of her, but the fight hadn't stopped. It seemed as if her adoring fans had forgotten her existence in favor of beating the ever-loving crap out of one another over her. Still surrounded on all sides by a forest of shuffling feet and legs, Elle curled her body into a fetal position in order to best protect herself.

A foot landed hard on her thigh. Elle's cry was cut off by a sharp kick to her back. Blackness swallowed her when . . . _Did someone just step on my head_? That was her last thought as unconsciousness mercifully smothered the sharp pain in her cheekbone.

* * *

It felt like only seconds; just a blink of time really before Elle was opening her eyes to flashing blue and red lights, people talking, rights being read. The grit of dirt and gravel had been replaced by crisp, white sheets and a gurney. A bright light flashed in front of her eyes.

"Hey," she groused, swatting at the light.

"Elle! Oh, thank God!" The familiar voice of Brian Donovan floated to her from the left. "You scared me."

The world swam as she turned to glare at her boss. Where had he been while she had been surrounded and stomped on?

" _I_ _scared_ _you_?" Elle snorted, choked, and then groaned as a fresh wave of pain wrapped around her mid-section.

"Ma'am? You need to relax," said the light-waving paramedic who appeared not much older than she.

Ignoring him, Elle attempted to sit up. She gasped. _That hurt_! She hesitated, but when the pain remained fairly constant, and not escalating, she pushed herself up all the way. She slapped at the hands of Brian and the paramedic when they tried to push her back down.

"Stop it," she ordered. She glanced around her, trying to make sense of the scene so very different from the one she last remembered seeing. "What's going on? What happened?"

She recognized the blond man as he was walked to the waiting police vehicle, his hands cuffed behind his back. He was sporting a blackened eye, she noted with distant pleasure. The dark-haired man who had started the brawl was standing next to the building currently being read his rights. Another man whom she didn't recognize, skin of Indian or Middle Eastern decent, was being questioned by another officer. She stared at him, trying to figure his place in all of this when Brian spoke up.

"That's your cab driver," he said. "He called the fight in to his dispatcher who called the police. He and Morris," Brian pointed out her bass-player near another patrol car giving his statement. "They helped me pull you free of the fight after the noise brought us running out front."

"Can you tell me how many fingers I am holding up," the paramedic interrupted, holding a hand up a few feet in front of her nose. Elle ignored his question and pushed his hand down.

"That was fast," she remarked. The patrol car must have been cruising by when the call went in.

"It wasn't that fast," Brian muttered. BPD's response time still wasn't fantastic, although it was an improvement to what it was three years ago. Three years ago, no one would have even bothered calling them if the fight didn't include at least thirty people with guns, knives, and chains. "You've been out for a while."

"Elle, you were unconscious when Morris and I came out of the restaurant nearly forty minutes ago. You only just now woke up," he exclaimed. "You should have been transported to the hospital twenty minutes ago for an MRI or something!" Brian shot the paramedic an accusing look.

"If you would let me do my job," the paramedic, his nametag said Keith, shot back. "We would already be on our way."

 _Forty minutes_?! The ringing in her ears had reduced three decibel levels since she had regained consciousness. She put a hand up to her head. Her fingers caught in a sticky, damp tangle above her ear. Sure enough, when she looked at her hand, her fingers were covered in blood.

But _it's old blood_ , she thought curiously. _If it were new, it would be bright red; not a sticky dark red._ The lack of panic at the blood covering her hand hinted that she might be a little bit shocky. Shivering, she pulled up the blanket puddled around her waist. Seeing the movement, the paramedic was all business. He gently pushed her back down onto the gurney, helping tuck the blanket around her.

"You'll be fine, ma'am," he reassured her. "The doctor will probably want to keep you a day or two for observation, but nothing seems to be broken. Your scalp has a minor laceration. It has already stopped bleeding, so will likely not need any stitches to heal properly."

 _Hospital_? Oh no, she couldn't go to the hospital! Her father would find out, and the next thing she knew, she would be back in Chicago on forced bed rest for the next month or two.

She blinked. Thinking about her father, Elle remembered her body guards. Where were they? She could have gotten a ride with them, she supposed. That would have prevented this whole fiasco to begin with, but it had gone against her idea of independence to rely on the babysitting expertise of her childhood bodyguards.

"Where are Edward and Hugh," she managed to ask.

"Who?" Brian looked at her oddly, before his face cleared. "Oh, those two big guys that follow you around all the time?" At Elle's nod, he explained. "They broke up the fight while the cabbie, Morris, and I helped you. They were armed, however, and the police took them to the station for questioning."

"You let them take Hugh and Edward to the police station? Why didn't you explain to the cops who they are?" She tried to sit back up. The paramedic held her down with a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Elle," Brian said. "I suppose I was too concerned you might be dying or something."

 _Damn it_! She would have to tell them to keep this incident under wraps. She was pretty sure they would report it back to her father no matter what promises she might force out of them. Still, it was worth a try.

Keith, the paramedic, interrupted again. "I need you get you to the hospital now, ma'am," he said. Turning to Brian, "we have room in the ambulance for one person to ride with her. Or you can follow in your own vehicle."

Keith was reaching for the belt on the gurney to strap her in, when Elle swung her legs over the edge and sat back up. "I'm not going," she announced to the two startled men.

"Elle, you have to," Brian said. "You were unconscious for a long time. You have to go get checked out."

"No, I don't . . ." she argued.

"Ma'am," Keith broke in. "You are suffering from shock as well."

"Why," she asked him. "Because I'm cold? Well, it's October in Bludhaven! It's always cold in Bludhaven in October."

Keith just looked at her, knowingly, despite his not knowing her at all.

"Right. Shock," she muttered. "How do you treat shock?"

"You need to be with medical personnel to treat shock, properly. You could easily slip back into unconsciousness, into a coma, and even die if you were to attempt to do this on your own." Keith didn't like scaring his patients, but he had a feeling that this woman was going to stand up and go home by herself otherwise.

Brian boggled at this news. "Elle," he choked. "Please, sweetheart!"

Elle sighed. "Why don't you go home, Brian? Suzanne will be worried about you."

"Suzanne would have my head if I let you go home with a head injury and suffering from shock. Besides, I called her after the police arrived. She knows where I am."

Elle's lips twitched at that. Suzanne Donovan thought herself to be Elle's surrogate mother. "Brian . . ."

Brian looked at Keith. "What if I went home with her? I could keep an eye on her; wake her up every hour . . ."

Keith looked at the two of them like they were nuts. "This isn't something you should treat lightly. It's my professional opinion that she needs to be evaluated by a doctor, and held for observation. Something could happen . . ."

"Or not," Elle interjected. "The zombie apocalypse could happen, too, but that doesn't mean that it will. I just want to go home right now."

"The police will be wanting to talk to you, too, Elle," Brian told her. "Of course, they might let you wait until tomorrow, and you could go down to the station then."

Keith snorted. "Sorry, but I doubt you will feel like going anywhere tomorrow. Whatever you are feeling right now will be doubled or tripled by tomorrow."

"I'm feeling numb right now," Elle volunteered, and immediately wished she hadn't. Keith was frowning at her.

"That is another symptom of shock, ma'am," he stated. "You need to take this seriously."

"Elle," Brian begged her with his eyes.

"Seriously? Brian stop with the puppy dog eyes. It's not a good look on you," she grumbled.

Suddenly Brian perked up. He thought he knew a way to get Elle to get the care she needed. He wasn't sure she would want him to know any more than she wanted her family to know that she had been a victim. But he knew the man's name, and that was a start.

"Elle, I really think you need to go to the hospital." He looked at Keith, willing the man to follow his lead. "Keith, here, thinks it's necessary, don't you, Keith?"

The paramedic nodded emphatically. "Totally," he agreed, and went into another lecture as to why treatment by a professional was superior to aspirin and an ice pack.

Taking advantage of Elle's confusion and the slowness that her obvious concussion was causing her, Brian stepped over to one of the officers on the scene.

"Is she all right? Do you think she's up to making a statement?" Officer, Brian checked his name, Radcliffe asked.

"Not yet. She's trying to refuse medical treatment at the moment," he muttered.

This seemed to surprise the officer, and he glanced around Brian at the woman shivering on the gurney. "I don't think that would be a good idea. Besides the fact that she was unconscious when we arrived, she looks pretty banged up over all. Who knows what other injuries she might not even realize she has?"

"I agree, but she's being stubborn. I was thinking that we might get in touch with the guy she's been seeing. He might be able to convince her to go to the hospital."

Officer Radcliffe peeked back at the woman in question. No doubt about it, even with the shiner she would be sporting before morning, she was an attractive woman. "Well, do you have his information? I could radio it in, and dispatch could send someone to pick him up."

"I only have his name. Maybe you could look him up," Brian asked, hopefully.

"If it isn't John Smith, we might be able to locate him for you," the officer agreed, tentatively.

"Dick Grayson," Brian supplied. "Although it is probably listed under Richard, I would think."

"Did you say, _Dick Grayson_?"

"Uh, yeah. Is that a problem?" Brian frowned.

"I think I know who you're talking about," Radcliffe looked at the woman again. It would figure that Grayson would have a gorgeous girlfriend like that, and keep it a secret. "Is your Grayson also a cop?"

Brian blinked. He didn't know. The man he knew was the adopted son of that rich, Gotham playboy, Bruce Wayne. Would Wayne really allow his kid to get a blue-collar job like being a cop rather than paving the way for him to become a corporate vice-president to some fictional department in daddy's business?

"I don't know. I suppose he could be." Brian admitted, albeit reluctantly.

"Black hair, blue eyes, approximately five foot ten, one hundred seventy pounds or so. Too bloody good-looking for his own good; a real pretty boy?"

Brian was nodding. "Yes! That sound just like him."

Radcliffe whistled. "Damn . . . Some guys have all the luck." He chuckled. "I can find him for you."

"Good. Perhaps he can convince her to get the care she needs. That head injury is worrisome, and coupled with shock, she's too confused to make these kind of decisions. She's not listening to me, but she might listen to him."

The reminder of the seriousness of the woman's injuries, sobered the officer. He wasn't looking forward to telling a fellow officer that his girlfriend had been attacked by a bunch of . . . He looked down at his notes. _Nine_ _men_? Good God! That was a mob! Oh man, what a nightmare! Especially if Grayson actually was in love with her.

* * *

 **This is the kind of reactions that Elle's mother and grandmother had received during their own careers. Because Elle's blood was diluted, I thought those obsessive reactions shouldn't as great for her. Any more information would definitely be a spoiler for anyone who hasn't read the story yet.**

 **Feel free to review and give me your comments and opinions, or ask further questions as to why I chose to delete this. Unfortunately, I won't be able to answer guest questions on here, but feel free to set up an account. You don't have to write, you know, to have one. You'll be able to collect your favorite stories, and I'll be able to answer your reviews and receive any PMs you might have. ;D**

 **I'll be putting up more of these deleted scenes and excerpts every so often from your favorite stories. Things that didn't work for one reason or another, or I just couldn't fit into the story.**


	3. Lab Rat - Choosing

**This excerpt is from the story, "Lab Rat". It would have been found in the middle of chapter 30, during Robin's first visit to the Watchtower. I chose not to include it because, like Robin, I thought it wasn't very exciting, and didn't do anything to forward the plot.**

 **SPOILER ALERT : I didn't get rid of it completely because it was kind of fun watching Robin try to work out what the Spirit Boy was miming. Remember, the Spirit Boy has no voice and cannot talk to Robin normally. **

**Lab Rat: "Choosing"**

 **No Warnings . . . Rated "K+"**

* * *

Robin was bored.

He was tired, as had become usual for him of late, and he was bored. He toyed with the edges of his blindfold, only to have Black Canary pull his hands away. He sighed, wondering if she were as bored as he was. It wasn't as if he could even have a conversation with her right now. He couldn't hear anything but that ringing.

Suddenly he felt something icy cold pass through his arm, and his heart skipped a beat, and then thumped hard. Hard enough to make him gasp, and his hand to grasp his chest, slightly panicked.

 _What the_. . .? Fear skittered through him. He didn't understand! He couldn't see anything; couldn't hear anything . . . So, how could his trigger activate?

But when his heart continued to beat normally, he calmed. This never happened before, he thought. But wait! Yes, it had! The spirit had caused this to happen once. The spirit couldn't speak, and Robin wouldn't hear him now if he could, so if he wanted to tell Robin something, he needed to be seen!

Robin sat up slowly, and felt the world tip slightly. He pushed himself back in the bed until his back was against the wall. Now that he felt reasonably certain that he wouldn't fall out of bed, he carefully lifted a hand to the blindfold, waiting for Black Canary to once again pull his hand away. When she didn't, he tugged the soft material off of his head.

The light stabbed his eyes, making them water. His headache, not completely gone, worsened a bit. Robin bit his lip and blinked until he had become somewhat accustomed to the glow of the artificial lights of the bay. He looked around him.

Five beds lined the wall across from him before the door. There was Black Canary, he noticed, talking to that blond man near the door. He wondered what they were saying. It looked serious. This side of the bay was lined with another five beds. His was the middle one.

When he turned his head the other way, he came face to face with the spirit boy. The spirit was so close to him that Robin startled. The spirit, however, now that he had Robin's attention, backed up and sat on the neighboring bed. Robin noted that it didn't sink beneath him.

Dick knew his voice tended to be loud because he couldn't hear himself, and he wondered if the spirit would be able to understand him if he just mouthed the words, rather than speak out loud. He had already freaked out Bruce and Alfred when they caught him talking with the spirit. The last thing he needed was for Black Canary and that other blond guy to think he had lost it, too. He turned his back to the door and faced the spirit.

 _Can you understand me this way_? Robin mouthed the words, being careful to avoid making vibrations in his throat.

The spirit nodded.

 _What is it you want_? Because the spirit always wanted something; whether it was for him to be strong and live, or to tell him something important.

The spirit held up two fingers on each hand and put them up alongside of his head. He had made this sign before, Dick thought.

 _Batman_. A nod confirmed his suspicions.

The spirit mimed sadness and crying, drawing lines down his face from his eyes with his fingers. Dick's mouth dropped open.

 _Batman's crying_? No, he wouldn't cry as Batman, but it was troubling. Dick had never seen Bruce completely lose it, let alone Batman. _He is sad_?

The spirit mimed again using signs that Dick was growing familiar with; Dick. Break. Batman. Heart.

 _I'm breaking Batman's heart_? Dick's eyes widened. _But how_? _Why_? _Because of the triggers_?

The signs came again. Batman. Then he pointed to his forehead . . . Head? Thoughts? Thinks? The spirit nodded. _Batman thinks_ . . . Dick. The spirit pointed to himself. Dick frowned. Spirit? Dead? Dies? A nod came next.

 _Batman thinks I'm going to die_?

The spirit nodded. He pointed to the two people talking near the door. Dick looked over his shoulder at them, and then back to the spirit.

Dick mouthed _Is it bad news_? The spirit nodded and then shook his head.

 _Yes and no_ . . . Dick frowned. _Bad news but_ . . . _Good news, too_?

The spirit nodded.

 _Am I going to die_?

The spirit looked thoughtful. He pointed at Dick. Then he put out one hand, palm up and looked at it. Then he put out the other hand and looked at it. When Dick looked confused, he did it again, pausing between each hand.

 _I_ . . . _choose_? Dick's eyes widened. _I can choose whether I live or die_?

The spirit mimed a couple more familiar signs.

" _I_ . . . _strong_? _I must be strong_.

Dick was worried though. _The last time I had to fight to come back_ , he mouthed.

The spirit repeated his mime.

 _I must be strong_. _Is there hope_? A nod was the answer. _A cure_?

The spirit shrugged and waggled a hand. Dick blinked.

 _Are you serious_? _What does 'sort of' mean_?

Canary touched him on the shoulder, making him jump. He looked back and saw the blond man was gone. She picked up his blindfold and held it out to him. More than anything, he didn't want to put it back on. He glanced at the spirit and tilted his head toward the offensive cloth.

The spirit smiled and shook his head.

Dick turned to Black Canary. "I don't want it. No one on the Watchtower right now can hurt me."

She leaned close to him, "You can't know that," she yelled in his ear.

He could barely understand her, but it was enough. He glanced at the spirit once more, to see the boy nod and smile.

"Yes, I do," he informed her confidently.

* * *

 **What did you think of the scene as a stand alone? Admittedly, the story itself was better without it. But it was interesting enough that it remained in my file of deleted scenes.**


	4. Derailment - By Rail, version 1

**Okay, for all you "Derailment" fans - Did you know that I wrote several chapters for this story in which Kaldur was the fourth member of the team rather than Roy. The idea of Roy came later. And while this is cute and kind of funny with Kaldur teamed up as Artemis' significant other, it just couldn't compare with the sharp and witty dialogue that came from Artie and Roy's bickering. One made me smile and chuckle while the new version made me laugh out loud.**

 **This is the full first chapter with Kaldur in place of Roy. This, the original version, is pretty similar to the one in the actual story, so, if you like, read this and then compare the two.**

 **Derailment - "By Rail" version 1**

 **No Warnings . . . Rating "K+"**

* * *

The couple stumbled onto the train, grinning and laughing; holding hands. A few heads turned and smiled in their direction. They were a handsome couple, after all. She, a pretty brunette with a brilliant smile, and he, a young black man. She is tugging on his hand and teasing him. He is following along gamely, if a bit more reserved. People resumed settling into their seats as the two disappear from the one car into the next; amusement fading as their thoughts returned to their own lives and the trip through the Rocky Mountains into British Columbia in which they were about to embark.

The couple moved through train car after train car until they reach one that has private cabins. The young woman leaned against the wall and glanced around as her boyfriend quickly unlocked the door, but no one is around. Either they had all already entered their cabins, or were settling into seats near the front of the train, or perhaps into one of the two dining cars that brought up the rear.

"We made it without anyone being the wiser," the young man said, waving his companion into the private room ahead of him.

She tugged off the wig and released her blonde hair as soon as she entered. "I didn't recognize anyone, did you?"

"No," he closed and locked the door behind them. "But it can be safely concluded that no one recognized us either."

"And that would be a good thing," she said as she looked out the window. A sudden jerk announced that the journey had begun as the train slowly pulled out of the station.

"Indeed." He set down the duffel bag that he had carried on. It was long and bulky, but then again, it carried both of their belongings.

She turned and moved toward one of the two doors that their cabin boasted. One led to the tiny bathroom, the other opened to reveal a second with no handle that led into an adjoining cabin. She raised her hand to knock when the door to the other cabin swung open.

"It's about time you two showed up," Robin complained. His ever-present smirk assuring the couple that he was only joking.

Conner appeared behind him. "Did you run into any trouble getting here?"

"No," Artemis shook her head opening the door up all the way so that their teammates could enter.

There was barely enough room for two of them, let alone four; especially when the fourth was as large as Conner was. Superboy tended to take up a lot of room. Robin decided to forego the chairs and sat on the tiny table instead. He could swing his feet that way. Conner sat in one of the chairs as Artemis moved to sit on the small couch that hid the bottom bunk with Kaldur.

"Nice color," Robin commented to his teammate.

Kaldur ran a hand over his black hair. "It is a rinse," he explained. "Artemis felt my own hair color was too distinctive if we happened to run into people we have dealt with before."

She picked up her own wig. "I'm incognito, as well. It only seemed fair after making Kaldur change his."

"We still recognized you," Conner pointed out, "but it did take us a moment first."

"At least you got on the correct train," Robin grinned. "I wasn't sure you two noticed which one you were getting on, what with the way you were ogling one another out there."

Artemis threw a decorative pillow at his head. Robin ducked, but needn't have bothered as Conner snatched the fluffy bundle out of the air. Kaldur blushed hard enough that the pink showed plainly on his face.

"It was an act, Boy Blunder," Artemis snapped defensively, but she was blushing as well.

"We were supposed to resemble a couple in love," Kaldur reminded him, "according to the mission plan that Batman gave us."

"Well, you were _almost_ convincing," Robin teased. He looked pointedly at Kaldur. " _You_ need to loosen up. Artie was doing all the acting. You looked like you had swallowed something bitter."

Kaldur frowned. "I was smiling and laughing with Artemis. I held her hand. What more was I supposed to do in the way of convincing the general public and our marks that we were a couple in love."

Robin slapped his forehead, groaning. "Seriously? Even KF could have been more romantic, bro!"

Kaldur straightened up, offended. "I would have you know . . ."

Artemis laughed and put her hand on his shoulder. "Robin's teasing you, Kaldur. You did fine."

Robin leaned forward and said in a stage whisper, "I could give you advice, if you wanted."

Kaldur raised an eyebrow. "And what would a _thirteen year old_ know about being romantic?"

"I've had the best of examples to learn from," he said confidently.

Conner glanced at him, confused. "Batman?"

Robin hesitated and then laughed. "No, not Batman," he told them. "My . . . Uh, my dad is a bit of a . . ." he faltered again.

"A playboy?" Artemis supplied. "Seriously? Who's your dad anyway? Bruce Wayne?"

Robin blanched. "No! He's nobody, really. But he's good with the ladies."

Artemis looked at him funny. "What's your mom think about that?"

Robin's smirk fell away. "She . . . She's gone."

"She's dead?" Conner asked bluntly.

Robin turned his head and watch as the Canadian town finally disappeared and farmland now swept by the window. "Just . . . She's just gone." He couldn't say more than that without giving away more than was safe to reveal.

"My dad left," Artemis volunteered in a whisper. She leaned forward to lay a hand over the younger boy's briefly. "It's just my mom and me now."

Robin glanced at her gratefully. He would take that excuse. He almost blew it. Time to change the subject. "We should go back over our mission. You know, make sure we have everything down the way Batman laid it out."

Kaldur agreed. "Excellent idea."

"We are to intercept an agent for the Light, and relieve him of whatever merchandise he is supposed to be transporting and return to Happy Harbor," Conner stated succinctly.

"Except that we don't know who the agent is or how many of them will be required for the transport," Artemis added.

"Or what the merchandise is exactly," Robin put in. "Have you guys come up with any ideas for that?"

Kaldur spoke, "It would need to be something relatively small as this is a passenger train."

"It could be a person," Conner said. Everyone looked at him in silence. Uncomfortable, he spoke, glaring at each of them defensively. "What? It's a viable option!"

Robin chimed in quickly. "No, you're right! It's a really good suggestion! I don't think any of us considered that the merchandise could be a person, but it makes sense. Why else would they choose a civilian passenger train?"

"I concur," Kaldur leaned forward; resting his elbows on his knees. "Why not choose a freight train if the merchandise is bulky unless one was concerned with its comfort?"

"Why wouldn't they just fly it, then? Why go to the trouble of taking a five-day train trip and leave the merchandise exposed when they could have just hopped a plane and been there in two or three hours," Artemis argued.

"Because security is much tighter at airports," Robin told her, "even in Canada. But security for trains is lighter; much easier to smuggle something or someone who might be recognized."

"Again," Artemis shrugged. "There are roads, too. If you can afford a few days, why not just take a car or a truck? Why a train?"

"Driving a car through a pass in the Canadian Rockies during winter? These guys are bad, but I don't think they're crazy!" Robin countered.

"Actually, those areas are already being investigated by Kid Flash and Miss Martian," Kaldur announced. "They are checking out the airports nearby and flying to our destination city. If they cannot locate the Light's agents, they will search the highways via the bioship."

"But it takes four of us to check out a train," Artemis muttered.

"According to the intel that Batman received, the train is the most likely scenario. Batman wanted to make sure our bases were covered in the event that more than one agent is involved in the transfer," Kaldur told her.

Artemis eyed Conner and Robin curiously. "So, what's your cover stories? Did Batman send you in together?"

"Supey and I are supposed to be brothers," Robin grinned, pointing his thumb at Conner.

She tilts her head. "Other than the hair color; you guys don't look that much alike."

Conner shrugged. "More so than any other two team members."

"M'gann could have made herself to look like someone's sister," Artie commented.

"Maybe," Robin said, "but she's busy checking out airports and piloting the bioship."

Kaldur smiled. "The brother story should easily pass muster."

"It'll work. I've been teaching Conner how to act more like a big brother," Robin assured them.

"Really?" Artemis looked skeptical.

She doubted that Conner's acting skills were any better than Kaldur's, which _were_ pretty dismal, she had to admit. Robin had been right about that.

Conner suddenly reached up to ruffle Robin's hair. He then pulled the smaller boy off of the table; putting his arm around the smaller boy's neck and giving him a noogie on the top of his head.

"Cut it out, you jerk," Robin yelped; pushing his way out of the hold. "I'm telling Mom!"

"Mom not here to save you, shrimp," Conner replied smugly.

Artemis laughed at their antics; impressed. "Not bad!"

Kaldur glanced out the window. "We are well on our way. I suggest we make out way to one of the dining cars and begin searching for the Light agents."

"Are we going to know each other," Conner asked.

Kaldur shook his head. "No, that might garner too much attention. We've disrupted enough of the Light's business that they could be suspicious of too large a gathering of teenagers, even if we travel in disguise."

"There are two dining cars on the train," Robin said. "Which one will you go to?"

"Artemis and I have already been through the front cars," Kaldur said. "We'll head to the rear dining car and see what we can find."

Robin hopped to his feet, punching Conner in the arm playfully. "Ow," he yelped; shaking his hand out. "Come on, Conner. We'll head to the dining car near the front."

Conner smirked. "Did you hurt your hand?"

"I'm telling Mom," Robin threatened yet again.

"Hey! You punch me, remember?" Conner shoved Robin back into their cabin gently, but the smaller boy still went through the doorway, stumbling. Conner turned back to wave at his teammates. "We can meet back here after din- . . ."

A pillow flew through the doorway to slap him in the side of his face. He turned and growled as Robin's distinctive cackle was heard.

"You're not going to be laughing when I feed you this pillow, squirt," he hollered, moving into the cabin and closing the door.

Artemis laughed. "I think Conner's getting the hang of this," she told Kaldur, smiling.

"Apparently so," he said dryly, but he, too, was impressed by the clone's ability to adopt a character. "I begin to wonder if I should not have taken Robin up on his acting suggestions."

She finished tucking the last of the blonde strands out of sight, and fingered the wig's brown locks into place. "How do I look?"

Kaldur eyed her critically. "At first glance, I wouldn't have recognized you. I think you have achieved your purpose."

Artemis rolled her eyes. "You _do_ need help," she teased. "You were supposed to tell me that I look beautiful."

Kaldur blushed. "Oh. Well, you are, of course, a very attractive female."

Artemis shook her head, sadly. "I think there are some videos that we can check out. We can grab a romance to watch when we get back. Maybe you can pick up some pointers from it," she suggested, then added with a grin. "Or you can always ask Robin for some advice."

"Surface mating rituals are confusing," he admitted with a sigh. "I'll let you pick out a video after dinner. Can we not mention this to Robin and Conner?"

"Sure," she laughed. "That sounds like a plan. Okay, Kal, I'm ready. Let's go!"

"After you," Kaldur smiled charmingly as he opened the door for her.

Artemis sauntered into the corridor; winking as she walked by him. "That's better," she told him. "There may be hope for you yet."

* * *

 **REACTIONS? I ask because I really want to know how this compares in your view. I think I made the right choice in replacing Kaldur (sorry, Kal) with Roy.**


	5. Derailment - At The Station

**Here is an excerpt from the beginning of "Derailment". I went through several ideas before settling on the one in the published story. How to start this? Isn't that a problem so many writers have? This one was a fun little bit, but none of it made it into the final version. Still, I thought some of you would be interested in seeing it.**

 **Derailment - At The Station (prologue?)**

 **No Warnings . . . Rating "K+"**

* * *

They entered the train station separately, in two pairs; Artemis and Aqualad, and Superboy and Robin. They wore their civilian identities; Robin wearing his sunglasses as a means of extra protection. His teammates didn't understand why Batman insisted on Robin continuing to hide his identity from them, but the mole had yet to be discovered, and honestly, his civilian ID was too recognizable with his link to the rich and famous Bruce Wayne. As uncomfortable as this was for him, Robin understood why it was necessary.

He was here as Robert Kent; Conner Kent's little brother. Artemis and Kaldur were playing the cooing young couple, much to Wally's annoyance. He still refused to acknowledge his interest in Artemis, much to Robin's amusement. Although he kept his kid-mouth shut, it didn't little to hide his sour expression.

M'gann was seeing them off in the guise of Robert and Conner's mother while Wally hung back with the Bioship. Their part in this was to meet the rest of the team at the end of the line and pick them up with the "merchandise"; the identity of which they still hadn't discovered, which was why they were using the trip as a cover to give them time to search for it. Wally and M'gann were to continue to monitor the situation from afar, giving them backup if and when it became needed.

"Psst," Rob hissed as he and Conner passed Artemis and Kal in the crowded station. "I thought you two were supposed to be playing the couple."

Rob suspected that the two teammates were uncomfortable with it, but the subtle reminder had Kaldur reaching for Artie's hand. She stiffened, and then made a conscious effort to relax. Rob glanced up at Conner and smiled. The clone smirked back; earning him a full-blown grin from the younger boy. Rob would teach his teammate to have a sense of humor yet!

M'gann stood near the door to the parking lot. She waved reluctantly and moved back out the door and into the parking lot. The Bioship was hiding just beyond a copse of trees in full camo-mode.

' _Can you hear us_?' M'gann's voice sounded in their heads.

' _Yes_ ,' Robin acknowledged. Conner merely grunted.

' _Loud and clear_ ,' Kaldur chimed in next.

' _We'll meet you at the rendezvous point in three days_ ,' M'gann told them. ' _You'll be out of range of my telepathy, but we'll be monitoring you via your communicators twice a day at ten a.m. and seven p.m. sharp_.'

' _Right_ ,' Rob caught himself nodding. ' _Copy that_.'

Reaching up, he readjusted his headphones as if he were listening to music; continuing to bob his head to cover his slip. Conner smirked again and gave him a gentle nudge with his shoulder. It was enough to almost send him sprawling. Robin bumped into a man and his wife even as Conner caught his arm.

"Oh, sorry," Robin apologized with an embarrassed smile. He was unused to appearing clumsy in public. "I tripped."

"Watch where you're going, Rob," Conner scolded lightly.

Robin shrugged off the clone's hand in a show of brotherly irritation. "It was an accident," he pretended to huff. "Back off or I'm telling Dad."

Conner ruffled his hair and gave him another shove; this time being more careful to reign in his strength so as not to send the smaller boy careening into anyone else.

' _Need I remind you that_ w _e are supposed to be keeping a low profile_ ,' Kaldur's voice sounded in their heads.

' _Just a bit of familial roughhousing; nothing to worry about, people_.' Robin thought at the others.

Wally's snort came through causing Robin to laugh. ' _A bit of brotherly bonding_?'

At Conner's obvious confusion, Robin laughed again. He purposely bumped into the clone again.

' _Loosen up, Conner_ ,' he admonished. ' _Siblings act like this all the time._ '

' _And you know this, how_?' Artemis' teasing voice sounded next. ' _Are you admitting that you have brothers and sisters, mystery boy_?'

Robin's brow furrowed for a second as an image of his cousin flashed through his mind. They had been a lot like brothers, being raised together in the closeness of the circus. He glanced up to find Conner looking at him curiously. He forced out a smirk.

 _'_ _I admit to nothing_ ,' he joked; relieved that he could think at her instead of trying to speak past the lump in his throat. He shoved those old feelings into their box in the back of his mind and concentrated on the mission.

' _Minds back on the mission_ ,' Kaldur reminded them, almost parroting Robin's thoughts. ' _We will see you at the rendezvous_ ,' he thought at M'gann and Wally.

* * *

 **What do you think? Cute, huh? But it was actually unnecessary and it was far more fun starting the story out with a little mystery in the first couple of paragraphs. Again, this was before I switched out Kaldur for Roy.**


	6. Derailment - Avalanche

**From the original version of "Derailment"; I actually wrote this first before everything else as I began to develop the story. Parts will sound familiar, but overall, there is a lot that is different in this first attempt; not just Kaldur's inclusion. I obviously expanded on this as well . . . This is just one chapter, but in the published story several of its scenes were split between three chapters (Ch. 6, 7, and 8). This was just the initial idea. Believe it or not, I wrote this in one sitting. As with the other entries in this collection, it hasn't been edited, so forgive any mistakes. I stopped bothering improving it when I decided to change things up.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: I've taken several bits and pieces and ideas from this chapter to use in the published story, "Derailment". You might want to wait until you've read "Derailment" to enjoy this entry.**

 **Derailment - "Avalanche"**

 **Warnings: Maybe Language (I can't remember), and Intense Peril . . . Rating "T"**

* * *

The rumble was growing louder. Louder even than the train. That was saying something directly after experiencing an explosion in a confined space.

"What is that?" Robin asked as he dodged three shuriken. They hit the wall where he was standing seconds after he flipped away.

"What is what?" Artemis used her bow to smack away Sportsmaster's staff, and dropped down to attempt to kick his legs out from under him.

Her father jumped up onto a crate. There wasn't much room to maneuver on the train car. He brought the staff down, but Artemis was no longer there. _Impressive_ , he thought to himself before a whip of water flew past his face and wrapped itself around his staff. _She's improved_.

"That rumbling," Robin called out.

Aqualad yanked the staff from Sportsmaster's hands, and Superboy leapt past him in an effort to reach the scientist that the two were transporting. The man didn't look nearly so confident this time. He huddled in the corner away from the fighting like a rat. But like a rat that is cornered, he had teeth.

The scientist had his hands in a smaller crate, and when Superboy landed in front of him, the cowering man pulled out a silver plated rifle.

"Stand back," he demanded.

"You know you can't hurt me with that," Superboy smirked at him.

"It won't hurt you, but it will allow you to be hurt by others," the scientist snapped back, his bravado returning now that he had a weapon in his hand.

"Quit talking and just shoot him," Sportsmaster yelled back at him as he now grappled with Aqualad.

The words made Superboy frown and he reached out to grasp the weapon just as the man pulled the trigger. A red beam of light emerged and struck Superboy in his side, just below his ribcage. He gasped and fell back.

"Wh-What did you do to me?"

"How does it feel to be vulnerable for a change," the scientist laughed. "I think this was what you were after," he announced smirking and waving the rifle around. "The Red Sun Radiation Laser Rifle will strip you or Superman of your powers for the next seventy-two hours!"

"Shut up, you fool," Sportsmaster growled, shoving Aqualad away.

"What is that rumbling," Cheshire asked.

It had grown even louder in the last two minutes; enough so that this time the fighting stopped as everyone now listened. The ominous roaring was punctuated by loud crashing noises. Everyone looked at one another with growing concern.

Artemis was nearest the end of the car that had been blasted away. She shot an arrow into the floor of the car and used the rope to brace herself as she peered around the shredded edges of the vehicle. The car was slowing down now that it was no longer attached to the train. Her eyes widened and her face paled.

"Uh, guys," she squeaked. "I think we have a problem."

"Yeah, we can see it," Robin called from his perch atop of a stack of crates. "Bridge coming up!" They would likely roll to a stop somewhere in the middle of that thing. From where they were, he couldn't see the bottom of the gorge yet.

"Not that," she yelled, pulling back. "That explosion set off an avalanche!"

"What?" Cheshire and Aqualad yelped at the same time.

"Brace yourselves," Artemis yelled as she ran away from the open end of the car.

Several hundred tons of snow slammed into the side of the car at that moment. One side of the car dented and collapsed under the extreme weight, not built to withstand the punishment. Suddenly a trunk of a tree split the metal and fiberglass and shoved through the middle of the car; splitting it. The car bent and ripped; snow, rocks and smaller branches plowed its way into the small space as the people inside were flung in all directions and smashed into walls and crates.

Without thinking, Superboy flung himself in front of Robin in an effort to protect the younger boy from the thick branches that were threatening to spear any in their path. One of the smaller branches tore through his jeans and into his thigh.

Conner screamed in shock and pain. _What the hell_! He grasped the branch, but it refused to budge. Conner was pinned to the side of the car; effectively buried beneath the pine boughs.

The car groaned and shrieked as it was flung onto its side. Luckily it was only the outer edge of the avalanche that hit them. The car folded over on the tracks but didn't leave them completely. The force of the snow shoved them toward the bridge with greater speed and if anyone was looking through the open end, they would have saw the green and browns of the Rocky Mountains give way suddenly to the open air of the wide gorge.

The car screeched slowly to a halt; balance precariously on the train bridge sideways; blocking the tracks in both directions. The train itself had long since disappeared across the bridge and into the tunnel half hidden by the forest beyond. The rumbling and crashing sounded distant from where they had come to rest. Eventually the sounds of the avalanche died away and there was silence, but for the howling of the wind.

* * *

"I-Is everybody okay?" Aqualad's voice cut through the sound of the howling wind.

With the exception of him and Superboy, everyone in the car was human. Technically, he was as well, but his Atlantian heritage gave him strength and speed over and above that of the average human. As a result, Aqualad was a lot harder to kill, and wasn't easy to injure.

"Artemis?" Cheshire whispered. She had been closer to her sister when the avalanche struck.

Artemis groaned and pushed herself up. Blood ran down her arm from a deep gouge. A sharp pain in her side caused her to gasp, and she slapped a hand to the area. Looking down, she saw the beginnings of some bruising, but no other blood was present.

 _Internal bleeding_? God, she hoped not. That was all she needed. They were at least forty miles from the closest town, maybe more.

"You okay?" Cheshire whispered.

"I'm not sure," Artemis admitted. "I think so. You?"

"Been better," she said, dragging herself out from beneath the tree trunk that had bisected the car. It had just missed her when it had crashed through. "But been worse, too."

Sportsmaster shoved at the broken wood that covered him. He grunted as he stood up; holding his arm close to his side. It appeared that more than the train car had been broken. He kicked aside a crate and used his good arm to drag the scientist to his feet.

"Get the rifle," he ordered.

Blood dripped down the side of the scientist's face as he picked up the rifle with shaking hands. He looked as though he would pass out at any moment. Apparently Sportsmaster thought so, too.

"Don't pass out," he growled at the swaying man. "Jade, time to go."

Pulling out his hammer, a heavy steel ball on a chain, Sportsmaster used it one-handed to enlarge one of the holes in the side up the train car. He shoved the scientist up and out of the side of the car and followed him up.

"Hurry up," he yelled down to Cheshire. "I've already radioed the helicopter. A storm's blowing in. If you aren't up here, we're leaving without you!"

As if to make his point, the wind gusted strongly; making the entire car squeal and quake where it sat precariously on the bridge. Jade helped to free Artemis, and then held out her hand.

"Come with us," she said. "You'll die out here."

Artemis glanced around. Aqualad was yanking crates off of Robin. Where was Superboy?

"You go on ahead," she told her sister. "I can't leave them behind."

"You're crazy. The forecast predicted a blizzard is moving into this area. You're fifty miles or more from the nearest town," Jade replied angrily.

"I guess we'll be walking then," Artemis snapped sarcastically. "Better get going. I can hear your ride."

"Stubborn," Jade grumbled.

"It comes naturally," Artemis snarked.

Jade leapt upward, catching the jagged edge of the hole and dragged herself through it. "Suit yourself, little sister."

Artemis climbed over the tree trunk to help Aqualad. "Is he hurt? Where's Conner?"

"I'm okay," Robin answered her. "Conner's pinned over there." He pointed.

She could just see the clone's legs peeking out from under several heavy pine branches. Her eyes widened. "Is that . . . blood?"

Kaldur spun around. "Blood? Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not sure," she snapped, worriedly. "He's supposed to be invulnerable! How could that be blood?"

Robin staggered a moment and then, seeming to find his equilibrium, climbed over a couple of unbroken crates. "Conner! You okay?" Pushing back a tree limb, Robin suddenly froze. "Uh oh."

"What's uh oh?" Kaldur climbed right behind him.

"I think that _is_ Superboy's blood," Robin said, staring.

"What? But how," Artemis squeaked.

Conner opened his eyes and grimaced in pain. "Ow," he complained. "The scientist shot me with something he called a Red Sun Laser. He said it would strip me of my powers."

Robin kneeled down beside him to survey Superboy's injury. "Looks like it works," he muttered, digging in his belt for medical supplies. "Aqualad, I'm going to need your help here."

Kaldur glanced up at the hole in the side of the car where Sportsmaster, Cheshire, and the scientist disappeared through. "Artemis," he called. "I saw Cheshire talking to you. What did she say?"

"She said there was a blizzard coming. She and Sportsmaster are waiting for a helicopter to airlift them out of here before the worst of it sets in," she told him, looking up as well.

"It would appear that the laser is the merchandise," he surmised.

"It could be the scientist as well," she remarked. "He invented the thing apparently."

"We need to stop them," Kaldur told her. "We need to try to regain the scientist and the laser or, at the very least, one of them. Can you distract them while I free Superboy?"

She sighed. "Sure, but I'm going to need backup pretty quick."

"I will be right behind you," he promised. Kaldur was already bending to inspect the limb that had impaled his teammate's leg. "This is going to hurt," he warned the Kryptonian.

Superboy grunted. "What's a little pain amongst friends," he tried to joke. It fell flat.

Robin winced. "You need to work on your delivery," he suggested as he moved out of the way.

* * *

Artemis winced in sympathy at the roar of pain that followed her out of the train car. She looked over to see her father talking to someone on a communicator device. The wind was far worse out here; whipping her hair across her face. Snow flurries had already begun.

"You can leave, but you can't take the rifle or the scientist," she called out. _This was so not going to work_.

"Your idea of a joke is sadly lacking, baby girl," Sportsmaster said as he closed his communicator; slipping the device back into one of his pockets.

"It's no joke," Artemis insisted. She pulled out her bow and notched an arrow. "Go! Start walking, but you're leaving the scientist and that weapon behind."

Jade stepped in front of the scientist. "The scientist and his weapon were kind of the whole point of this."

A whistle sounded in the distance. Artemis frowned as she looked beyond her family. Jade turned as well, glancing behind her.

"What was that?" Artemis asked, although she didn't think she really wanted to know.

"Sounded like a train whistle," her father commented.

"I know what it sounded like, but I thought the train kept going after you disconnected the car," she snapped.

Jade looked from Sportsmaster back to Artemis. "It did."

The girls' father started laughing. "It's a new train," he said, lightly. "Headed in the opposite direction."

Jade frowned now. "But the opposite direction means it is coming toward us."

"Exactly," Sportsmaster agreed.

"But the car is balanced across both sets of tracks," she exclaimed.

"What?" Artemis looked down for the first time.

Her sister was right. Their train car was bent, almost broken in half, and lay across one set of tracks, but a portion of it extended across the tracks that ran parallel to theirs. She glanced behind her and saw that nearly a third of the car also jutted out over the side of the bridge, into open air!

"Oh no!" It didn't take a genius to see that when the other train barreled into the end of their car, it would sent it plummeting into the gorge below.

The snow was picking up. Visibility was getting worse. Would the engineer see them in time to stop?

It was still daylight, but with the storm approaching, it was more like twilight. Dark enough that they could see a light approaching in the distance. It was too high to be the oncoming train, however.

 _Dad's ride_ , Artemis determined.

"You can still come with us," Jade told her.

Artemis glanced down in the dark interior of the car. "I can't leave my friends."

"They'd leave you in a heartbeat, baby girl," Sportsmaster replied.

Artemis frowned. "No! They wouldn't. And neither will I!"

"Don't be a fool! You'll die out here!" Jade repeated her earlier warning.

"Not likely," she told her, but her bravado was wearing thin. _Oh God_ , Artemis thought. _We are so going to die out here_ . . .

* * *

"You guys need to get up here in a hurry," Artemis called below.

The helicopter hovered above them. The door opened and a rope ladder descended. Sportsmaster pushed the scientist toward it. As the man started to swing the rifle over his shoulder, Artemis shot an arrow that knocked the weapon out of his hands.

"No!"

Sportsmaster dove for it, but the Laser fell off the car and between the tracks. They watched as it disappeared in the snow and brush that lined the large river below. It was a long drop; one hundred feet or more. There was no guarantee that, should they recover the weapon, it wouldn't be damaged beyond repair.

"Damn it, Artemis!" Her father took a couple of menacing steps in her direction.

"No time, daddy dearest," Cheshire grabbed his shoulder. "The pilot is signaling us to move. The wind is picking up."

"The rifle . . ."

"We still have the scientist that designed it," she reminded him.

"Or not," Artemis said as she let loose another arrow. This one had a net that engulfed the man. He toppled and almost fell, but for Sportsmaster grabbing the net at the last minute.

"Hang on," he said, pulling out a line and attaching it to the net. "Just hang tight."

It was a testament to Sportsmaster's strength that he could climb the ladder one-handed while lugging the smaller man's weight. It was slow going, however.

Aqualad leapt through the hole and leaned down to give Superboy a hand up. Robin followed last. It took only a few seconds for the trio to sum up the situation as dire. The light from the oncoming train had rounded the bend. The vibrations announced the second it began crossing the bridge. Visibility was terrible and it wasn't likely that the engineer would have time to stop by the time he saw the train car.

"I got the rifle, but they're getting away with that scientist creep," Artemis yelled over the wind. She pointed at the other side of the bridge. "And there is another train coming! We have to get off of here now!"

"You're not going anywhere yet, Cheshire," Aqualad called. He used his water bearers and whipped them forward, slicing the ladder off right above her head.

"I disagree," she said with a smile.

She flung a couple of balls the size of marbles. They exploded, not in front of Aqualad, but next to Robin and Superboy. Robin rolled and flipped; catching the side of the car. Superboy, however, was flung backward by the blast and toppled off the edge into empty space.

"Superboy!" Artemis and Aqualad yelled.

"Stop her! I've got him," Robin called out, and he kicked off the roof of the car and into a dive.

Cheshire stepped to the edge of the car and pulled out a shuriken. "But who's got you, Boy Wonder?"

* * *

Robin grabbed the sides of his cape; holding it tight against his body in an effort to make him more aerodynamic and increase his speed. The wind was blowing him further from the bridge. He wasn't going to catch Conner this way.

Yanking out a batarang, he flung it in the clone's direction and prayed he had compensated well enough for the wind. It circled the older boy's legs and the rope attached wrapped around them. It wasn't pretty, but it got the job done! Robin pulled hard to tighten the hold enough that Conner wouldn't slip free.

"Hang on, Superboy," he yelled, even as he turned and fired his grapple at the bridge construct. The sound of the grapple catching the girder was lost, but it stuck true. As it pulled taut, Robin worked to control his swing.

"Grab hold," he instructed Conner. The clone nodded his understanding and grasped one of the girders as soon as he was close enough.

"Got it!" Conner yelled back. He looked up in time to see something zipping through the air above the boy. "Watch out!"

Robin didn't see the shuriken that sliced his line, but he felt the tension give way, and then he was falling. Superboy grabbed the line that was around his legs, but Robin had already let go of it once the older boy was safe. The Boy Wonder attempted to shoot another grapple, only to have a gust of wind snatch it out of the sky. It flew out and away from the security of the bridge supports.

"No! Robin!" Superboy gasped as he watched helplessly.

Robin didn't panic. He was still high enough to save himself. He grabbed another batarang like the one he saved Superboy, and flung it at another girder. It wrapped around a beam securely. Unfortunately, his fall had become too fast to make this a comfortable save. When the line jerked taut, Robin cried out as his shoulder muscles tore under the strain. At least his shoulder didn't go out of joint, he thought, dazed.

His body swung wildly, buffeted by the wind, and he slammed into a support beam violently. Stunned, the line slipped from his hand, and once more Robin was falling. His height by this time was only thirty feet above the surface of the river. Not enough to kill him on impact, but enough, with the shock of the freezing water, to knock the breath out of him.

The torrent pulled him under and out of sight.

* * *

"No!"

Artemis screamed as she watched Robin disappear into the water below. Without a word, Aqualad dove off of the car after him. She gasped. This was a hundred foot drop and that wasn't a bottomless ocean beneath them! Kaldur would surely be killed when he hit the raging river.

The train was barreling down on them. The snow swirled in a dazzling display in front of its light. The whistle blew shrilly as the engineer finally saw the car in front of him, but there was no way to stop in time! He could only push on through in an effort to shove the bit blocking his side of the tracks away, and hopefully keeping his train from derailing in the process.

Jade grabbed the rope thrown to her by her father and threw an arm around her sister's waist. The helicopter pulled up; struggling for control in the turbulence of the incoming storm. The crack was deafening as the train hit the car. The girls spun wildly in the air; missing the top of the train by mere inches.

The car toppled over the edge of the bridge.

"I've got you," Jade told her sister.

"No, you don't," Artemis growled. She had to get down there to her team!

She twisted out of her sister's grip. Jade screamed as her sister fell. Artemis was already reaching for the arrow she wanted. As soon as she cleared the edge of the tracks in her freefall, she made her shot. The arrow flew around one of the girder supports and Artemis swung onto a steel beam several feet above Superboy's head, just as the car crashed into the dead trees at the water's edge. The water's swiftness pulled much of what was left of the car into the river and out of sight. There was no sign of Robin or Aqualad, however. Did Kaldur make it down safely? She didn't know!

"Can you see them," she called down to him.

"Thank God," Conner gasped upon seeing her. "I thought that maybe you were still on the train car."

"Conner! Where is Aqualad and Robin?" Artemis began making her way down to her remaining teammate.

Superboy looked worriedly at the river below. It was partially frozen, and chunks of ice were constantly breaking off and swirling downstream; following the river's path.

"They disappeared around the bend. We need to get down there and go after them." Conner shivered violently; noticing for the first time how truly uncomfortable he was feeling; over and above the deep throbbing pain from the wound in his leg.

"Hang on," Artemis told him. "I'm coming down to you."

"H-Hurry," he called out over the moaning of the wind.

* * *

 **REACTIONS? This original version split the team up differently. In this, Artemis and Conner remain together while Kaldur and Robin are separated from the others by the raging torrent of the river. Big changes were made from this version to the final one.**


	7. Derailment - Drowning

**This came directly after "Avalanche" in the original version of "Derailment" and before Roy's inclusion. Here is also where I decided that Kaldur's presence made things both too easy and too difficult; and where I started rehashing my cast of characters.**

 **Derailment - Drowning Scene**

 **Warning: Peril . . . Rating "T"**

* * *

Robin gasped for air as he struggled to keep his head above the water. Even with his suit's insulation, the cold water was rapidly stealing what strength and heat he had. Hypothermia was definitely going to be an issue for him if he managed to somehow reach the shore. At the moment, the rapids were too powerful for him to swim efficiently. And that ability was waning with every second that passed.

He should have escaped before rounding the bend, but he had been too stunned by the impact and the cold to manage anything beyond the basics, such as _not_ drowning. Robin had entered the rapids before he could do anything about it. It was almost beyond him to judge the difficulty of the white water he was caught in, but if he were to guess, Robin thought they were easily a level IV. He couldn't exactly be described as an expert, even had he a boat, but trying to traverse this as a swimmer in winter . . . Robin tried not to think of himself as a goner, but it was hard. He didn't normally have the mindset of a victim, but to deny that he was staring his own mortality in the face was a level of self-deception that beyond his scope at the moment.

Robin slid over a ledge and was immediately tumbled in the current beneath it. A hole! He knew what it was, and that if he didn't escape it, he would die here. He struggled to remember what he had learned about this. It was getting harder and harder to keep his thoughts in order.

He allowed himself to be pulled under the water and, twisting his body around, Robin pushed off of the rock face and along the bottom beneath the violently churning current. He struggled to reach the surface. He was getting too tired to fight.

He barely avoided hitting a number of boulders, but inevitably he was slammed back into one; the hard granite bruising his shoulder, back, and ribs. He prayed it wasn't any worse than that. As it was, the pain was sufficient to prevent his escaping the branches of a downed tree.

As he was pulled under with the current, Robin's head smacked the heavy branch. Blackness seemed to engulf him, but Robin fought it. His gloved hands grappled for some kind of purchase, but his fingers were numb and clumsy. He shoved through the branches and twigs that clawed at him, and felt a burst of freezing cold against his side when his uniform was ripped that made a mockery of his previous discomfort.

His lungs were burning, however, for oxygen. His body was using the precious gas at a greater quantity than normal. He needed another breath . . . soon! His vision was darkening; tunneling. How long before he lost consciousness altogether?

Just as Robin pushed through the last of the tree's limbs, the current yanked him hard. His cape snagged around another branch and the collar caught him around his neck like a hangman's noose! There wasn't enough freedom to reach the surface, and he couldn't fight the tow enough to untangle himself.

Robin's numbed fingers struggled to release the cape. Unable to hold his breath any longer, he gasped and freezing river water invaded his lungs.

 _I'm going to die_ , he realized. Concern for how Bruce would handle it flooded him. _Oh God, Bruce_! Concern for his adopted father was his last thought before darkness completely engulfed him.

* * *

Using his water bearers, Aqualad created a disc below his feet. When he hit the river, the disc and his legs took most of the impact. He grunted as a dull pain shot up his body and he was flung forward and into the freezing water headfirst. He immediately kicked off and began to swim with the swift current; taking care to avoid the chunks of ice that traveled the river with him. They would swirl and bang off of one another and the shore; sometimes getting caught briefly; sometimes breaking off yet other chunks of ice in the process.

As he rounded the bend, the speed and violence of the moving water increased as rocks and boulders changed the topography of the river's bottom. Boulders jutted out of the water, causing Kaldur to have to twist to avoid crashing into them. The rapids grew increasingly more difficult to maneuver.

Kaldur worried now that Robin, stunned or unconscious upon impact with the freezing water, might have been unable to avoid crashing into the many obstacles in the river. He used his Atlantian strength to move even more swiftly in hopes of catching up to the boy before he could drown.

It was difficult though. He had to keep his eyes peeled for the Boy Wonder, in case he had somehow, miraculously, pulled himself to shore or got caught in the rocks that lined the river. Although Kaldur wasn't as familiar with the dangers of rivers as he was those of the ocean, he was aware of the potential hazards of ledges and holes where the water can curl back upstream and hold a boat or swimmer in place. They could easily drown a person caught in one.

Strainers could also be a life threatening problem, he thought as he caught a glimpse of a large downed tree that extended into the river ahead. If the power of the water trapped Robin in the branches, he would easily drown. The rapids were increasingly more difficult the further he went. He wasn't certain that even his Atlantian strength would be sufficient to escape from some of the dangers this river posed.

* * *

 **Now you are getting a glimpse into the writing process. This is good, but it could be so much better. And now, of course, it is . . . From here I could see potential problems for my plot happening, and I made the decision to not include another meta-human in the mix. It was also taking too much time as I was writing this for a contest. I refused to short the story by rushing it, and some of the rules for the contest limited me. I set this aside temporarily, and worked on a different story for that YJ writing contest (Jaborandi), to be picked up later when I had the time to invest in it.**

 **I would love to hear your opinion on these earliest versions.**


	8. Last Chance - Dropping By

**Here's another excerpt from "Last Chance". This would have been found in place of "Chapter 5 - The Crime-Fighting Fairy". A very sweet bit, but not quite what I was looking for. But who can just delete this lovely piece of DaddyBats fluff mixed in with some Nightwing butt-kicking action? I certainly can't . . . And now I get to share it with all of you!**

 **Last Chance - "Dropping By"**

 **Warning: A Little Mild Butt-kicking Action . . . Rating "T"**

* * *

"Need any help?"

Batman didn't look back at the familiar voice of his eldest son. Pride filled him, however, at the fact that he hadn't heard him arrive this time until he had spoken. He always knew that his little Robin would grow up to be the best. There was no one he trusted at his back more than Nightwing.

"It's an unusually peaceful night, but that doesn't mean I don't welcome your company," Batman replied. "What brings you to Gotham, tonight?"

"Missing you, I suppose," Nightwing admitted. "Just wanted to check in and see how things are with you. Where are the Robins?"

Batman lips tightened slightly, his only reaction to Nightwing's comments, but inside . . . warmth filled him. He had missed him, too. "Red Robin's taking 5th through Broad Streets tonight, then working his way back. I'll be meeting up with him in the middle. Robin, however, is home in bed."

"Sick?" Nightwing asked, concerned. He had just managed to rid himself of the last vestiges of his own illness a week ago. He had been spending the past several nights cleaning up the mess left in Bludhaven after a week without Nightwing. The flu, or whatever it was he had picked up in the lake, had hit him hard.

"Grounded," was the reply.

He groaned. "What did he do now?"

"Disobeyed orders to go after two gunmen on his own. It very nearly cost him more than two weeks on cave monitor duty," Batman growled.

"Two weeks? That's kind of harsh."

"One week per gunman. More than fair considering had I not arrived when I did, he would have been vacationing from patrol permanently."

Nightwing nodded. "Not so harsh, after all."

"Just as well," Batman continued. "He has a week of testing coming up at school. The extra study time will give him a leg up."

Movement caught Nightwing's eye. A block away, a woman was running, looking behind her as she went. "I got this," he said, sending his grapple line out. Two steps, and he dropped out of sight.

As Batman watched, two thugs came into view in hot pursuit. Nightwing swung high, over the woman's head, then releasing his line, he flipped several times before coming down hard onto one man's shoulders. The criminal went down immediately. His partner turned to face the new challenge, pulling out a weapon. A gun? Ah, no, a knife . . . Nightwing dodge the wide swing, coming up under the man's arm to slam an elbow into his jaw. The second thug fell back from the blow, perfectly placed for Nightwing's reverse hook kick. The kick was hard enough to lift the guy off of his feet and slam him back into the brick building behind him. He slumped to the ground without a sound.

* * *

 **While Damian is quite the talented, little assassin, he is more like a well-trained eleven year old in my story than DC is portraying him. I simply cannot wrap my mind around an 11 yr old ninja who is capable of whipping the entire Bat Clan's ass . . . Nope! No way! Damian, although a badass, will be mildly sweeter than the violent, sarcastic, angry, little Demon-child that DC gives us. As such, he can get himself into trouble, and be grounded for it.**


	9. Bat-Wolf - Sleeping on the Floor

**Here is a tiny, little excerpt from Bat-Wolf. It would have been tucked into chapter 6, but despite Bruce's budding fatherly instincts, I chose to go a different route that led to excitement and a climactic breakdown of Dick's emotional wall as well as witnessing more cracks in the wall around Bruce's heart.**

 **Bat-Wolf - "Sleeping On The Floor"**

 **No Warnings - Rating "K+"**

* * *

He moved back to the corner. He didn't think he could sleep in the bed after being so bad. This could be part of his punishment, Dick decided as he curled up in the corner and let sleep come. He would leave early; before breakfast, before anyone else was up.

* * *

Bruce tapped lightly on the door. He didn't want to just barge right in if the boy was still awake. When there was no answer, Bruce opened the door and looked in. It was like déjà vu . . .

The bed was empty. The chair and the window seat was as well. The window was closed, however, thank God! No alarms had alerted him to a breach in the manor's defenses. His eyes swept the room and that's when he discovered the boy; curled up in a miserable ball in the corner.

"Ah, Dickie," he whispered. "What's going through that head of yours?"

Bruce went to pick the boy up, but paused when he noticed the child's backpack lying next to him. Dick was clutching his elephant to his chest and the picture of his family sat beside him on the floor.

Curious, Bruce picked up the pack and unzipped it. It was packed with clothes, and it didn't take a detective to realize that everything in it was the things that Dick had brought with him. Nothing that he or Alfred had bought for him had been packed. He was planning to run away.

"Come on, Dick," Bruce shook the boy awake. "Let's get you to bed. The floor is too cold and uncomfortable for you to sleep on all night."


	10. Gallows Humor - Breakdown

**You may remember me complaining that I had to rewrite half of chapter 3 to "Gallows Humor". The piece was beautiful and heartwrenching, but Alfred was just too full of good sense. Robin had to avoid him at all costs, and it was just as well he did as Robin's assistance had been desperately needed for the rest of the story to progress. But I loved this scene, and am VERY happy to share it with you now. You might need a tissue or two with this . . .**

 **SPOILER ALERT! _Don't read unless you've already read Gallows Humor!_ **

**Gallows Humor - "Breakdown"**

 **Warning: Some Language and Angst . . . Rating "T"**

* * *

Robin stumbled through the light and into the comforting shadows of the Batcave. He leapt from the platform and ran towards the stairs that led to the manor.

" _Alfred_! **_ALFRED_**!" His voice cracked as he screamed. This was not the sound of a mere emergency, but one of fear and despair.

" _Master Robin_!" Alfred stepped out from the changing room; the stack of clean towels in his hands tumbling to the floor in his concern. Something terrible has happened, and he had hoped never to hear his name being called in that particular tone of voice; the advent of so many possibilities that he had prayed to somehow be able to avoid.

"Good heavens, child, what has happened?"

Robin veered from his course and ran to him. The butler was startled when the boy didn't stop a respectful distance away to explain, but barreled into him; wrapping his arms around the older man.

"Do you _know_?! Did you _hear_?" Robin cried against his shirt.

Alfred had been aware that Robin had been with his team of young heroes on an important mission this evening. Sorrow welled in his heart for the boy as Alfred concluded something must have gone horribly wrong. Had one of his teammates been hurt?

But no, he decided at once. While Master Dick had been known to give way to tears occasionally; not so Master Robin. The boy's mask seemed to provide a necessary barrier between him and the world that enabled him to keep his head about him, even in the most extreme of circumstances.

No, this was something more, he feared. Something dreadful.

Death? Say it isn't so . . . His friends, Alfred understood, were very young; only a few short years beyond Master Robin's own age of thirteen.

"I fear not, young sir," Alfred told him; kneeling in order to better comfort the boy. "I have been quite busy this evening, and have not monitored the computer as closely as I might normally."

The way that Robin sobbed against the elder man's jacket was altogether heartbreaking. Alfred pulled his handkerchief out from his pocket and attempted to hand it to him. How would he ever get the story from him at this rate? Why, he had never seen such a reaction since the first few months that Master Dick had come to live here at the manor, but even then, Alfred couldn't remember his fits being this inconsolable. It was, all told, utterly distressing.

"Come now, sir," Alfred attempted to peel the boy off of him. "Let us repair over to the computer, and we'll see if we can contact Master Batman. I'm certain he would cut short his patrol for this."

Robin slid down to his knees; hanging his head as he attempted to catch his breath enough to explain.

"He's not coming," Robin whispered.

"What was that?" Certainly he didn't hear the boy correctly.

"Batman . . . B-Bruce . . . H-He's not coming," Robin said a little louder.

"But, of course, he will," Alfred was quick to dismiss that idea. "He is in charge of your team, and you know he would drop most anything at all if ever you needed him."

" _He's not coming_ ," Robin yelled. "He's _not_ because he can't, Alfred! J-Joker . . . Joker killed . . . him . . ." his voice tapered off to next to nothing.

Alfred hesitated; unable to believe his ears. He wanted to declare the child mistaken! It was simply inconceivable . . . but . . . no, he corrected himself. No, it was entirely conceivable.

 _Dear God_!

It was a very good thing he was already kneeling, for a wave of weakness crashed over him. Master Dick was a good boy. He would never be so inconsiderate as to come home bearing erroneous tidings such as these! No, no . . . Master Dick would have to be convinced of its validity first.

The boy knew that Alfred was an old man. There were only so many shocks someone his age could take, after all.

He shook his head suddenly. _Come now, man_ , he told himself harshly. _Buck up_! _The child just lost his father for the second time in his short life. He needs your strength, now, more than ever_! _There, there_! _You can do this_ . . . He stiffened his spine. _You will have time later to . . . to grieve your own loss_.

"Master Robin . . ." Alfred couldn't talk to Robin. He began again. "Master Dick," he said, softly; reaching up to remove the sodden mask. "I must ask you where you heard such a terrible tale. I am well aware that you were on a mission with your friends, while Master Batman was patrolling the city this evening alone. How ever did you come to such a conclusion? Is there any chance that perhaps your information was inaccurate?

"Think about it. How many times has Batman defied every expectation to return from the purported grave, as it were?"

"It was on the news," Dick answered him. "They had video . . ."

"And that is your proof? This video?"

"No," he admitted. "I mean, I saw him . . . Joker hurt him, I think. And then Batman f-fell through the roof of a burning building. And then an explosion followed. I was looking, Alfred! Don't you think I was searching for him everywhere; in the shadows . . . But he never came out!"

"He might have found some other way out; away from the view of the cameras," Alfred suggested.

"I-I thought of that," Dick told him. "I did. I didn't give up hope until . . ."

"Until? Go on, then. Let's hear what it was that convinced you?" The butler asked.

"The reporter; the newscaster," he clarified, "was interrupted and given a message in the middle of his report. He ask if it had been confirmed, and was told it came straight from the coroner's office."

"Indeed." Alfred frowned; his heart beating fast. "And yet there have been no phone calls to the manor; nor has the front gate been swarmed by reporters."

He could see that the young master was desperate for hope, even as he explained more.

"You didn't see the fire, Alfred," Dick whispered. "It was terrible. By the time the flames were doused and the b-body retrieved, I doubt there would have been much left to identify through normal means."

"You are saying there hasn't been enough time to retrieve dental records or run DNA samples," Alfred nodded. For a badly burned body, yes, that would be the only way to accurately identify the remains. "But if that is the case, would there be enough left to identify that body as the Batman?"

"Are you s-saying that the coroner just assumed that the body was B-Batman's because no one saw him exit the building and it was the only body retrieved?" Tears hovered in those deep blue eyes; threatening to spill over at the least provocation. "B-But why would Batman let people assume the worst about him? He had to have known they were being recorded! Every news station in Gotham was there!"

"You know as well as I that when he is pursuing a criminal; particularly Joker, he does not consider much past the hunt. I suspect that the reporters were the last thing on his mind."

Dick leaned his forehead against Alfred chest.

"Yes," he shuddered. "Yes, that makes sense!"

"But whatever we might postulate, this will require some bit of detective work on our part to determine the truth," Alfred surmised.

"You're not suggesting, then, that we just sit here and wait to see if he comes back tonight?" Dick asked.

"This is the Joker we are talking about. That mad clown is not to be underestimated."

Dick sat up straight. "I could go after him!"

"Dear me, I should say _not_!" Alfred looked alarmed. "I would not have you going up against the demented jester alone, young man!"

"But Batman . . ."

"And what if, by some chance, you arrived there first?"

"I could . . ."

"My boy, it would not do for me to lose you both if indeed the worst has happened," Alfred squeezed the boy's shoulders gently, if also firmly. "You will go nowhere tonight."

Dick looked up with fresh tears in his eyes. "I can't lose him, Alfred! I can't lose him, too . . ."

* * *

 **Alas, such wonderful heartbreak . . . such beautiful angst! So completely opposite of what the plot demanded. sigh**


	11. Lab Rat: Running Scared - Goodbyes

**This came during the second half of "Lab Rat: Running Scared"; as part of the first version to Ch. 46. If you haven't read this story, Bruce and Dick (He's dressed as Robin here) will seem rather out of character. They're not! At least they aren't for this AU, but it took a while for them to arrive at this point where they could talk openly and easily about "feelings" and stuff. It was a painful struggle to reach it, so reading this out of context and before you learn the history will make it sound wrong or off to you.**

 **Lab Rat: Running Scared - "Goodbyes"**

 **No Warnings . . . Rating "K+" (for this scene - the story itself is a "T")**

* * *

Bruce stood on the roof with Robin. The boy's mask was back in place and the Lars disguise was still being worn. He wished Dick had been able to get more sleep than he had, but time was short. Haley was due to arrive in Bruges sometime late this afternoon, and Bruce needed to leave right away if his own plans were to work. Robin and the team needed time to practice their act as well.

He handed Robin a small disk with a tiny bat emblazoned on it. Robin tucked it inside of his belt.

"That's an emergency call button," Bruce told him.

Robin frowned. "Don't you already have a one of those inside my belt?"

"Yes, but didn't you say that Miss Martian will be changing your uniform to a circus costume with the exception of your weapons? I assumed that included your belt."

"Yeah, I won't have my belt with me to perform," Robin confirmed.

"This will stay with you throughout," Bruce instructed. "Whether or not you are wearing your belt. It is small enough that it won't be noticeable when you're performing."

Robin smirked. "Isn't that a little bit overkill?"

Bruce slid a hand over his son's head; his fingers tunneling through the messy black hair while he still could. "No," he assured him. "My staying would be overkill."

An expression passed over Robin's face. It wasn't difficult to read despite the mask.

"What's bothering you, Robin?" Bruce asked.

"I-I barely got a chance to see you and you're leaving again," he complained. "Can't you stay, too?"

Bruce hesitated for the barest of seconds, and then shook his head regretfully. "This is a team effort, and a chance for you to stretch your wings. You'll be in charge of this mission," he reminded the boy. "I know you'll do fine. And I won't be far away. The zeta tubes will ensure that I can get to you in an emergency quickly."

"You'll be a world away . . ."Robin complained.

"It's all relative," Bruce reminded him.

"What will you be doing," he asked.

"Will it make you feel better if I said I will be waiting for your call?"

The edges of Robin's mouth quirked up. "Yes," he grinned suddenly and wrapped his arms around the man. "Thank you for this again, Bruce. It means the world to me."

A flash of pain was there and gone before the boy noticed. "I know, son. Believe me, I know." He pushed Robin to arm's length. "Now, you need to get going. You don't have much time to practice."

Robin waved as he tugged out his grapple gun. "I'll miss you, Dad."

* * *

 **This is why I love this AU so much . . . I can write this wonderful relationship between Bruce and Dick that you can't really find in other universes (unless Robin is actively bleeding out, that is).**


	12. Last Chance - Sympathetic Dreaming

**SPOILER ALERT! This scene was meant to have occurred shortly after Elle discovers Dick's secret life as Nightwing. It comes as part of the Bond - something that the readers of "Last Chance" are aware of. I'm not sure why I didn't add this. I have a vague memory of having something else occurring that this might have detracted from. Anyway, here it is . . .**

 **Last Chance - "Sympathetic Dreaming"**

 **Warning: Slightly Disturbing Dream . . . Rating "T" (just in case I forgot something)**

* * *

Elle curled up on her bed with the comforter pulled up around her head with only her nose sticking out. The temperature dropped a lot last night and now she was regretting not buying that electric blanket she had seen at the store. It was funny that she could dive in freezing water without being cold, but cold air chilled her right down to the bone. Okay, maybe more ironic than funny . . .

Well, she regretted the blanket earlier and found it ironic hours ago. As of that moment, however, Elle was sound asleep; dreaming happy dreams that she would likely not remember come morning. The cold was affecting her though because she was curled up in a fetal position rather than spread out and comfortably taking up two-thirds of her queen bed as was normal.

Winter sucked . . . Dick liked winter. He wanted to take her sledding and make a snowman at the park while Elle dreamed dreams of sandy beaches in the south of Italy, Jacuzzi tubs, hot chocolate, and roaring fires. She dreamed she was sitting in a beach chair soaking her toes in the Mediterranean Sea with Dick squatting in front of her holding an ice cube to the tip of her nose. Elle pulled the comforter over her face. Dick stayed in the dream, but the ice cube went away after a little bit.

He was smiling at her as the water lapped around his calves. He tried to talk her into ice skating. He was holding out the skates to her when he gasped and dropped them into the water. Elle climbed out of her chair and touched his side. A bright red line appeared in his side between his ribs. When it started seeping blood, Elle stepped back alarmed.

"Dick, you're bleeding," she cried.

He winced in pain, but ignored the blood as he walked back onto the beach. He started building a sand castle with a moat, but the blood was flowing heavier and dripping into the moat and filling it up. Elle was horrified. She kneeled down beside him and helped him build towers. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop building the castle despite how much blood he was losing.

A sharp pain stabbed her, and when she looked down, Elle found that she, too, was bleeding from a cut in her side. Exactly in the same spot as the cut in Dick's side. Her wound began to seep until it was flowing just as heavily as his. The moat filled up and overflowed. She jumped back because she didn't want the blood to get on her, even though her entire left side was drenched. She turned away from the sand castle, intending to wash the blood away in the water only to discover that the entire Mediterranean Sea had turned to blood and was washing up on shore and turning the sand dark red. It swirled around her ankles and she screamed.

* * *

Her scream woke her up, and Elle sat up in a panic; throwing the covers off of herself.

 _Oh God_! What had sparked that dream? Worse, why didn't the fear and panic recede now that she was awake?

She looked around her, but it was obvious the man wasn't there! Was he still out? Did he go home to his apartment? Unable to relax; her anxiety ramped up to unbearable levels, Elle grabbed the phone and punched in his number. The vise around her heart grew with every unanswered second that passed.

 _It was just a dream_ , she told herself. _It didn't mean anything_! So, why couldn't she make herself believe that? Her fingers knew what she was doing even before her brain did. The cab service answered on the second ring.

She had promised Dick that she wouldn't go looking for him. She had meant it at the time, but faced with the certainty that something terrible had happened, Elle couldn't sit still. She threw on a thick sweater and some ratty, old jeans; sliding her feet into a pair of tennis shoes as she grabbed her keys and cell phone off of the table.

She wasn't going to endanger herself, she swore. She was just going to drive around a bit . . . until she grew tired.

Grabbing a jacket and scarf, Elle didn't even pause long enough to lock her door before running down the stairwell. It was three o'clock in the morning! Nothing good ever came of being out at three o'clock in the morning!

Dick had better be dying, or she was going to kill him!

 _Oh God, what if he were dying_?!

Elle rushed out of her building and jumped down the front steps. It was quiet out, and the only sound heard was the slapping of her tennis shoes as she raced toward the corner to catch her cab.

She really needed her car back!

* * *

 **I do know that had I actually used this, Dick would have been so mad at her. ;D**


	13. Second Chances - The Exterminator

**This one isn't exactly a deleted scene. I just couldn't fit it into the story what with all the other action happening. But it is very funny and I couldn't stand not posting it. You will probably need to read the end of "Last Chance" and the beginning of "Second Chances" to completely understand what happened to bring them to this point, but it is enjoyable even without it, I think. It would have "fit" somewhere in chapter 4 of "2C".**

 **Second Chances - "The Exterminator"**

 **No Warnings - Rating "K+"**

* * *

"How soon can you begin?" Alfred eyed the exterminator in front of him.

The man had had the run of the house for the past three hours with Alfred or another family member tagging along behind him. It wouldn't do for the man to accidentally discover an entrance to the Batcave during his survey. Certainly he would have come up with a reasonable estimate in that amount of time.

"You don't want to know how much it will cost?" The man in the tan outfit asked.

"It is more important to be rid of these pests as quickly as possible," Alfred told him.

"Oh, well, as best I can tell, about four months from today," the exterminator flipped through some papers on his clipboard.

Alfred blinked in dismay. "Four months?! Oh my, but that is unacceptable. We need someone to come in tomorrow at the very latest."

Harry, the man's name was sewn onto his shirt pocket, pushed his glasses up on his nose as he considered the very proper fellow in the monkey suit. "Hey, sorry, bub, but a lot of people have been having problems with pests this time of year. They like to come in out of the cold, you know?"

Alfred sniffed at the idea that the Manor had to deal regularly with the influx of insects.

"I'm sure I wouldn't know," he assured the man.

Harry shrugged. "Anyway, we also have regular clientele that have appointments in the spring, and with a place this large . . ." He pushed his hat back on his head as he looked through those papers a second time. "Yup! Four months is the best I can do for you. You want me to pencil you in?"

The butler pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead. "Oh dear, this is terrible," he muttered to himself. "No, I think not. I will have to look into other means in which to clear the crickets out of the house."

"Heh! And this is some house," the exterminator snorted, glancing around at the designer-inlayed marble floor and the Viennese crystal chandelier dangling above them. "You're welcome to try our competitors if you want," Harry offered.

"Indeed," Alfred said, tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket. "I'm afraid you were our last hope. I've already exhausted all of Gotham's means for ridding the small beasts."

"Ah, that's too bad," Harry sympathized. "There hasn't been a very good crop of new exterminators into the business in recent years. Guess not many are up for the challenge. Go figure," he said as he picked up his bag and moved toward the front door.

"Yes," Alfred stepped in to open the door for the man to exit. "It is baffling, to be sure."

Once assured that the exterminator's van had cleared the gate, Alfred headed toward the master's study with his grim news; a chorus of chirping accenting the click of his shoes on the tile. The humor of the situation had dimmed over the course of the past two days, unfortunately. He had found three in his kitchen that morning.

He briefly entertained the idea of getting a few more tarantulas to deal with the infestation . . . very briefly, however. He could see how that would lend itself to an assortment of other problems. Certainly, if he put his mind to it, Alfred thought, he might come up with another possible solution.

* * *

 **Oh dear . . . And honestly, this is part of why we love Elle and her contributions to the Bat Family! :D**


	14. Gallows Humor - You Promise?

**A small, deleted excerpt taken from chapter 7 of "Gallows Humor". This changes, of course. The ending is much better, but I love our worried, little bird here. He's now afraid to let Bruce out of his sight.**

 **Spoiler Alert! If you plan to read Gallows Humor, you might want to do it before reading this excerpt.**

 **Gallows Humor - "You Promise?"**

 **No Warnings - Rating "K+" (for the excerpt; "T" for the story itself)**

* * *

As the boy climbed unsteadily to his feet, there was an alert from the Bat-computer. Someone from the Watchtower was trying to contact him. Bruce sighed. He gave Dick's shoulder a gentle squeeze and handed him off to Alfred.

"I need to answer this," he murmured. "Alfred will take you up to bed, chum. I'll be up to check on you as soon as I'm done."

"Sir, you have no business going back out tonight," Alfred scolded quietly even as he pulled the young teen toward the elevator. "We will expect you upstairs in short order. Come along, Master Dick. We can take the lift. No doubt those bruises would complain mightily if you were to attempt to mount the stairs."

"We should wait on Bruce," Dick resisted the older man's urgings. "If he does need to go back out, he'll need back-up."

"No offense, young sir, but you are in no condition to give it."

It was a harsh, but true statement. Dick was fighting to stay upright. Vertigo; ringing in his ears; pain in his back, legs, shoulders and chest all promised to keep him benched throughout the weekend. And he thought he would be okay with that as long as Bruce stayed in, too.

Bruce gave Dick a reassuring smile. "I'm not in any condition to go back either. Alfred was correct in that. Go on up, I'll be right there."

Dick relented, although everyone present knew that Bruce's condition wasn't enough to keep him in if he thought Gotham needed him.

"You promise?" Dick asked worriedly. "Please, don't go out without telling me."


	15. Gallows Humor - Locked Out

**Another sweet, little excerpt from "Gallows Humor" and also from the 7th chapter. Same deal . . . Worried and clingy after the trauma of the evening, Dick wants Bruce close.**

 **SPOILER ALERT! You should read the story first. The giveaway is subtle.**

 **Gallows Humor - "Locked Out"**

 **No Warnings: Rating "K+" (for the excerpt; "T" for the story itself)**

* * *

Dick snorted at his retreating back. Like _that_ was going to happen . . .

He ached, but he wasn't about to let Bruce out of his sight, and certainly not if he were going to face down a potential threat. Despite his stiffness, Dick ran after him; his soreness easing as his muscles warmed under the light exercise and fresh rush of adrenaline.

He wouldn't engage unless he had to. He knew in his present state that he could be more of a distraction to Bruce than a help. But if there really was a danger, Dick wasn't about to let Bruce face it alone. He couldn't be in any better shape than Dick, himself, was in. Worse, maybe. He realized now that Alfred had been treating Bruce's injuries when he had woken. Dick had interrupted that, and Bruce had put off further ministrations to calm him and take him up to bed.

As he bounded down the stairs and rounded the corner toward Bruce's study, Dick considered who the intruder could be. How likely someone was spelunking on private property in the middle of the night and just happened onto the Batcave. Right! The odds weren't good. So, it was someone who had followed Batman and Robin back to the cave for nefarious purposes or else someone who knew the location of the Batcave and knew how to get past the security.

A friend? There weren't many who had ever been here . . . Superman, and Wonder Woman once. Kid Flash had invited himself last night. Would he have come back to check on him?

 _God_! They would be in so much trouble if Bruce discovered Wally in the Batcave!

Bruce had already gone through the clock by the time Dick arrived at his study. The boy went over and turned the hands to the proper time that released the locks that hid the door to the secret passage. Nothing happened! He reset the time, and tried again. Ten forty-seven . . . Bruce had given him the code years ago. The time of his parents' death. That would never change.

He tried the emergency manual release, but discovered that it didn't work either.

Bruce had anticipated Dick following him and locked him out! Or perhaps he expected trouble and wanted to prevent an enemy from entering the house? Either way, Dick was stuck up here while Bruce was down in the Batcave facing a potential unknown threat alone. He pounded the wall impotently with his fist.


	16. Last Chance - The Next Step

**Ah, my lovely romance story . . . In the end, I chose for Dick to come to his decision in a slightly different manner, but this remained close to my heart, and I couldn't bear to get rid of it. It had been meant to be Ch. 50 for the story, "Last Chance".**

 **SPOILER ALERT! This is a _BIG_ spoiler, so think about it first.**

 **Last Chance - "The Next Step"**

 **No Warnings: Rating "K+" (for the excerpt; "T" for the story)**

* * *

This week their schedules didn't coincide much as at all. Their time for several days was limited to an hour for dinner, and a few hours of sleep. Even though Dick knew Elle wasn't home, he dropped by her apartment after work to check on Mook and to just soak in her essence. He'd been keeping clothes there, and he had another uniform in her closet just in case he spent the 'night', which happened more times than not now.

He began to wonder why they bothered paying rent on both apartments. Actually, he paid rent on two. But if it came to actually moving in together, he would need to come up with a plan. He needed more room than Elle had to store Nightwing's uniforms, weapons and gear, and hold his specialized computer and communications system. It was also convenient to the gym he used after hours. For these reasons, it made more sense for Elle to move in with him than the other way around. But, these were the only reasons he could come up with for her to give up her apartment. In the end, it was more important for her to remain in her own place than to move in with him.

He didn't actually _want_ Elle living in his neighborhood. She had joked with Bruce and Alfred at how bad it was, but she hadn't been all that far off the mark. Crime was far higher where he lived than in her neighborhood, despite the mugging she had interrupted in her area and the attack on her at her work. Dick would worry about her constantly.

It was convenient to her work and it wasn't actually that far away from his precinct; just an extra ten minutes by subway, less by bike. He didn't like to think of Elle coming home from the club at three o'clock in the morning by herself. Of course, he would be escorting her, but each time she traveled that distance at night only increased the risk of her running into trouble that they could do without.

She had building security. Dick would be less inclined to worry about a break-in in her upscale, high security building than in his run-down apartment with its sticky doors, questionable locks, and broken light near the stairs.

But despite all his security worries, the most important reason for her to remain in her apartment was the filtration system her father had installed. His apartment didn't have one. Elle was exposed to low levels of chlorine with every shower she took, every meal she cooked there, and every time she even brushed her teeth while staying with him. She almost always took her dirty clothes back to her apartment to wash, but if she lived with him, her clothes would be saturated with low doses of the chemical. It was only a matter of time before she started reacting to even those low amounts. It was better to hold her ever-worsening allergy at bay by not exposing her needlessly to the chlorine in the city water.

So, basically, he needed to find a place near her apartment in which to set up his base of operations, and see what she thought of their actual living together full time. He dropped a couple of crickets into Mook's terrarium, and watched the tarantula stalk its meal for a time. Suppressing a shudder, he turned and surveyed the apartment.

Elle loved pictures and videos, and she had framed photos of the two of them hanging up everywhere. He grinned at the newest one sat in a place of honor on the entertainment center of Elle and the Wayne clan at the park sledding. It was taken before she had sprained her ankle while riding on the inner tubes. She was in the center of the photo. If she could have, she would have hugged everyone for the picture, but unfortunately her arms just weren't long enough. He and Bruce had been standing on either side of Elle, and Dick had an arm slung around Alfred's shoulders. Tim and Damian had kneeled in front of Elle and Dick. She looked so short, he thought with a grin. He'd never point it out, however, unless he wanted to see her pout.

He smiled. That had been a good day . . . a rare day! The Wayne clan didn't get together unless it was related to their night time activities. But he had a warm feeling inside that told him that was about to change.

He wandered into her closet and tugged out one of her dresses, holding it to his nose. The scent of her filled his lungs, and Dick felt the muscles in his neck and back suddenly release their tension and relax. It was amazing! She could manage to do that without even being here. More proof that it wasn't her voice that affected him, but Elle herself.

Dick hung her dress up and changed out of his uniform so he could shower and get into a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt. Elle did most of his laundry now, and he had to admit that it was nice not having to search for something clean to wear when he came home.

He had never really lived full time with a woman before. He had come close with Kori for a while, but had kept his own place up despite staying with her for four nights a week. He imagined that his life would take on a sense of normality living with Elle. He thought it would be a lot more like being married to her than merely living together and sharing a bed.

No one knew yet that Elle was aware of his Nightwing identity, or that she had immediately made the connection between Bruce and Batman, as well as Tim and Damian's alter-egos. As such, they spent more time with regular friends and couples, talking about things other than the latest Arkham escape and what new mobster was trying to set himself up in Bludhaven or Gotham City. It made him laugh to picture Nightwing being domesticated.

It also felt really, really good . . .

So good, in fact, that he wondered why they didn't just skip the pretense and cut right to the vows? They knew they were already destined to be together forever. There was no mystery there. Technically a wedding was a mere detail at this point; just a piece a paper they signed in front of a judge or minister. It shouldn't mean anything in the long run, but . . . it sort of did.

Elle was getting ready to go to Chicago to spend the weekend with her father for an early Christmas. He had already been scheduled to work this weekend, but he was still searching someone to switch with so he could join her, at her father's request. There was some big company Christmas party she was required, as his daughter, to attend, and she had practically begged him to come up and go with her. He might still be able to swing it, although he might have to drive back after the party so that he could work the next day.

Anyway, it would make it a good time to ask Cedric officially for her hand in marriage. It would make her old man happy, he knew. Cedric was sick. Dick had seen death before; enough times to realize that the elder Hamilton wasn't long for this world. Elle was in denial, and Dick didn't have the heart to press the situation on her before she was ready, but it would do the man a world of good if he knew she would be taken care of.

The engagement could be as long or as short as necessary to accommodate the man as well. Dick wasn't sure how much longer Cedric would be able to walk on his own, and he thought Elle would be crushed if her father couldn't walk her down the aisle. It made his decision for him.

Funny; it was one of the easiest decisions he had ever made.

Babs entered his mind again as he unwillingly found himself comparing this decision with the decision he had made a while back to ask Barbara to marry him. He had, interestingly enough, always assumed that he and Babs would marry, and yet he had been incredibly nervous about asking her; slightly terrified of what her answer would be. A frown marred his face when he remembered her answer. It had been no that first time. As well as no the second time as well. Babs had often joked that he had had to wear her down.

He and Elle had never actually talked about a wedding, but it was understood that what they currently enjoyed was a far deeper connection that any vows could ensure. Although it was possible that she might say no, in his heart he could feel her answer. His smile returned. He was, amazingly, content with where the next step in his life was taking him.

He looked at the clock. He had time to run out and begin the search for the perfect ring before heading over to Chez Donovan's for dinner with Elle before her show.

* * *

 **I seriously adore this series . . . It's not for everyone, of course, but it is my favorite. It was what got me to writing fan fiction in the first place.**


	17. Last Chance - The Morning After

**This was my first shot at "Chapter 28 - Monday Morning Hugs". As cute as it was, it wasn't quite what I wanted, but I loved the teasing and playfulness between Dick and Elle here.**

 **Last Chance - "The Morning After"**

 **No Warnings - Rating "T"**

* * *

Elle met Dick in the hall outside of their rooms the next morning. The navy t-shirt he wore made his cerulean blue eyes seem deeper. They made her stomach do a little flip whenever he looked into hers. She couldn't believe how lucky she had gotten in meeting him.

"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted her with a kiss. Always a dangerous thing since he could make her forget her own name in seconds.

"Flatterer," she grinned against his mouth.

He leaned back and looked at her, really looked at her. His brows creased, but he wore a half smile as he considered her.

"No, really," he said. "You look great!" He turned her a little so that the light was hitting her face. "I can't even tell you ever had anything wrong? That's amazing!"

"Well, I'm relieved. That was horrible! I never want to go through that again," she shivered a little despite wearing a warm, black turtleneck and gray, wool slacks.

Dick rubbed her arms, and then tucked her against his side as they turned to make their way to the kitchen for breakfast. "That makes two of us. You scared twenty years off of my life!"

"So, what do I have to do to put those twenty years back on," she asked him teasingly.

"I have a few ideas," he grinned, slapping her rump.

Elle yelped and laughed at him, swatting at his arm as they neared the head of the stairs. Smiling, Dick jumped onto the railing.

"Race you to the bottom!"

"No fair!" Elle started down the stairs as quickly as she could manage, but Dick was standing at the bottom waiting for her before she had gotten halfway down.

"What do I get for winning," he teased her, catching her about the waist and swinging her down the last few steps.

"Cheaters forfeit any winnings," she snarked.

"I bet I could think of something that would let us both win," he winked.

"True, but then we'd never get breakfast either," Elle reminded him, and ran ahead of him toward the kitchen.

The two of them burst through the kitchen door like a couple of kids, laughing and trying to catch their breath. Okay, so only Elle was trying to catch her breath, and once more she had to admire Dick's stamina.

"Children, children," Tim chided, teasingly from his place at the breakfast bar. "No roughhousing inside the manor."

"Good morning, Master Richard. Miss Arabella, you look quite charming today. All signs of your ordeal seem to have disappeared. It is quite remarkable," Alfred said, as he poured more batter onto the waffle iron.

Elle beamed at him. "Why thank you, Alfred. I am feeling much more the thing today."

"That is indeed wonderful to hear," he said. "And would you like a waffle for breakfast, or may I make you something else?"

"I'll have what everyone else is having," she said.

Turning around, she noticed Damian sitting at the table quietly. There were several butterfly Band-aids sealing the cut across his forehead. Elle made a beeline straight for him and pulled out a chair next to him.

"Damian," she began. "How are you feeling today?" She reached out to push his hair back to better inspect the cut. "Ouch! Does it hurt?"

"No," the boy told her. He was staring at her oddly. "Father told me that you saved me."

The edges of her mouth tilted up cautiously. "Does that bother you? You know, that a girl pulled you out of the water?"

"tt" he tsked dismissively.


	18. Trust Me

**Here's a snippet of something that was never expanded upon. It inspired my "Losing Amy" story which I seriously need to complete one of these days (and re-edit) Anyway, this little bit was cluttering up my file, so I thought I'd post it for you to enjoy.**

 **"Trust Me"**

 **Warning: Some Mild Peril . . . Rating "K+"**

* * *

"Grab my hand!"

The woman pleaded with him to save her, but she wouldn't let go of the ledge to take his hand.

Robin leaned over the balcony's balustrade in an effort to reach the woman before she fell to her death. They were twelve stories above the street. There would be no second chances, no reprieves from a fall from this height. There was only a foot separating them; a measly twelve inches.

He stretched out further over the abyss; dangerously so. To many, this woman was no one of importance; naught but a prostitute, but to Robin she was someone's daughter; possibly someone's mother. Her life was fraught with possibilities, full of potential, valuable if only to herself . . . If only she would just trust him enough to grab his hand!

"Trust me," he begged her. "I promise, I won't let you fall!"

"But . . . You're just a child," she whimpered.

She was mistaken. It had been over a year since his childhood had been forcibly stripped from him upon his parents' deaths. No, he hadn't been a child for a long time now.

"I'm stronger than I look," he told her.

It was true. Even before the tragedy that had reshaped his life so dramatically, he had been stronger than possibly any child his age. Afterward, his intensive training as the Batman's protégé, Robin, guaranteed that he was stronger than many of those five years his senior.

The woman was having none of it, however. Terrified as she was, she refused to reach out to him. But she was weakening. Robin could see it in her eyes and in the strain of her muscles. She couldn't hold on much longer. He glanced over his shoulder to his mentor, but Batman was busy still taking out the last of the gunmen.

Seeing no other choice, Robin slithered over the railing; tucking his booted feet between the metal slats. Securing a one handed grip on the balustrade, he leaned down to grasp the woman's wrist.

"I've got you. Help me pull you up," he told her.

"No! I'm too heavy," she cried. "I'll pull you off with me!"

She attempted to yank her wrist out of his grip, nearly sending them both plunging to the sidewalk below.


	19. Lab Rat - Don't Fear The Reaper

**This was meant for "Lab Rat". Batman was coming to retrieve some equipment that the police had confiscated in order to treat Robin, and was asked to stay and "help" Detective Harlow while he interrogated a couple of perps at the scene of a crime. Harlow doesn't actually need the help, but isn't above using the Dark Knight as a means of intimidation.**

 **I realized after writing this, that we really didn't need it. The story wasn't about Harlow, and this bit wasn't furthering the plot, so out it went. But that wasn't to say I didn't like it a LOT. I'm just happy that I have an excuse to publish it somewhere!**

 **Lab Rat - "Don't Fear The Reaper"**

 **Warnings: Crime Scene . . . Rating "T" (actually it is pretty mild, but, you know, just in case . . .)**

* * *

"I will return the visor and earphones to you in another couple of days, detective. I thank you for all your help," Batman told Detective Harlow.

They were standing outside of a convenience store surrounded by police, ambulances, and a coroner's vehicle. It was the scene of an armed robbery gone wrong. Three people were dead: the clerk, a teenager who had been out too late, and a middle-aged man. Two twenty-somethings were standing near one of the squad cars with their hands cuffed behind their backs; a man and a woman. The man was defiant, the woman frightened and unsure.

"That's good to know. I'm sorry that nothing new has turned up on the Scarecrow or that Lydia woman you told me about, despite that composite photo you sent to me. We're still looking, however," he said, as he strolled over to the couple.

The gun used in the multiple shooting looked to have only one set of prints on them. Forensics claimed they belonged to the woman. There were traces of gunpowder on her hands and clothes, but so was there on the man. The man, waving his rights, claimed his girlfriend was holding the gun while he collected the cash, but had panicked when the older man had accidentally walked into the holdup. She had shot him, and then the clerk when he dove to hit the silent alarm, and then the kid when he wouldn't stop screaming.

The woman admitted that the story her boyfriend gave the police was correct. Open and shut case, right? Harlow wasn't so convinced.

"If you wouldn't mind, Batman, I could use your help as well," he said.

Curious, Batman followed the man. "Of course, detective," he said. "What is it you wish me to do?"

Harlow looked back at the Bat that seemed to tower over his five-foot, ten-inch frame. "Just stand there and look pretty," he grinned. The smile slide off of his face as if it had never existed by the time he faced forward once more.

Harlow had been watching the couple for some time. He had let another officer lead the questioning when the man had started talking. Harlow had remained just within easy listening distance and observed. Now, after his brief conversation with Batman about the Scarecrow and the equipment he had 'borrowed' from evidence, he was ready to confront the couple. Might as well take advantage of any useful tools that presented themselves, he thought, feeling the grim presence at his back.

The couple noticed them now. Eyes widened and jaws dropped. Out here in the suburbs, criminals and lowlifes didn't get the opportunity to have face-to-face encounters with the great, black Bat of Gotham. Batman wasn't the deterrent in these parts as he was in the city itself, or so the criminals here liked to think. Apparently, all that bravado was a bunch of bunk, as the couple unconsciously took a step closer to one another.

"What's your names," Harlow asked. It was unnecessary. He had overheard the information given to the arresting officer.

The man took the lead as he had ever since the police had arrived on the scene, and the couple had given themselves up. The first officers on the scene had told him that the couple hadn't tried to run, but were arguing when they had pulled into the parking lot. Being in the neighborhood, the officers had had excellent response time, arriving within two minutes of the shooting's call-in.

"People call me Reaper," the man said.

Reaper's voice wasn't quite as boisterous as it had been previously; the change was miniscule, however. One had to be listening for it to notice. Harlow had been listening.

Still sure of himself, but nervous now, Harlow thought.

"Reaper, huh? Is that the name your mama wrote on your birth certificate, Mr. Reaper," he asked.

The woman snickered. "No," she said. "That would be Walter Cullins."

The man looked furious, and bumped into the woman hard enough to send her reeling. Harlow moved to catch her before she could fall, but Batman moved quicker, grabbing her arm to steady her. The woman flinched and bit her lip at the vigilante's touch. Fear, Harlow wondered, or something else. He noted the dried tears streaking her face.

"Yeah, as in the Grim Reaper," Walter replied snidely.

"Is that so," Harlow remarked, rocking back on his heels. "The gun found in your possession isn't registered under Grim or Reaper. In fact, it is registered to a Martin Angelo who was murdered by his own weapon when his house was robbed two months ago. Witnesses said a lone man was seen running away from the scene. Care to explain how the murder weapon from that scene came to be the murder weapon here?"

Walter shrugged. "It's not mine. It's hers. I don't know where she got it."

"Was the gun loaded, Mr. Reaper," Harlow asked.

Walter snorted. "Obviously."

* * *

 **Harlow was to go on from here to prove in another paragraph and some dialogue that Walter (the Reaper) was the actual murderer of a number of crimes that he got out of by testifying that his girlfriend or colleague was the guilty party in exchange for a lighter sentence for himself. Harlow is a badass detective whose ability to connect seemingly unrelated facts and to expertly read people impresses even the Dark Knight. But I show this is another place that is more relevant to the story, so this wasn't needed in the end.**


	20. MoD 1 - Parental Pickup

**SPOILER ALERT! This is the first version of the scene in my comedy, "MoD 1: Stranger in my Skin", where Batman arrives at the police station in disguise to pick up his "daughter" only to find his "son" there instead. I realized this would create a few plot problems, so I rewrote it.**

 **MoD 1: Stranger in my Skin - "Parental Pickup"**

 **Warning: Some Language - Rating "T"**

* * *

Matches Malone followed Officer Moore past several desks to the door she had just exited from just a few minutes before. Officer Randall met them there and followed the two down the hall to another door. Moore took out her keys and unlocked the second door. Malone searched the cells as soon as he passed into the portal. He saw the two streetwalkers immediately. They were standing at the bars and looking into another cell.

The Batman in him kept his cool, but the Bruce that lay just beneath the thin veneer of makeup and prosthetics was a little shocked by his reaction to seeing son drenched in blood. The mask of Matches Malone wasn't the same kind of protection that normally stood between Bruce and the violence that often stained their world. Sure, he could stay in character, but when Malone's reactions so closely paralleled those of the man that wore him . . . Well, a lot more of Bruce came through than he was comfortable with.

Even now, Alfred was touching down at the Happy Harbor airport in the WE company jet with everything they might need, and a remote ready to set off carefully placed explosions around the Batcave and the manor. If he needed to grab Dick and go, there would be no going back. All he knew was that he wasn't going to lose the son he had only so recently discovered. Clark, Barry, Diana . . . They all thought that justice was the most important thing in the world to him; that he put the mission above everything else, but they were wrong.

Matches Malone kneeled carefully next to the lower bunk, one hand brushing back the familiar black hair.

To anyone who truly knew him knew that family was more important than his companies, his wealth, his social standing; more important than even justice. The mission wasn't even a close second despite what those around him might think. He would sacrifice anything for Alfred, if he had to, but for the child that lay in front of him, Bruce would give up everything!

He had prepared for this possible eventuality the day he first petitioned the court to adopt Richard John Grayson three years ago. Charges at every entrance to the Batcave had been set in place years before, but to these Bruce and Alfred had added more. This eventuality wasn't to prevent discovery so much as to remove every vestige left. If they had to choose this course, there would be nothing left; nothing to ever return to, no shiny gem would remain under the rubble.

"Wake up," he crooned. "It's time to go home."

Dick opened grainy eyes, grunting. The pain was ebbing now and a familiar voice pulled him out of the cobwebs and dreams that had kept him trapped in perpetual confusion.

"Richard, it's Dad," the voice reminded him carefully.

 _Dad_? _Who_? But the answer was there even before the question had formed inside his head. It wasn't John Grayson, but it was still Dad, nonetheless. He felt the edges of his lips turn up.

"Dad?"

The familiar weight of a hand brushing through his hair comforted him. _Bruce_ , his mind sighed.

Dick pushed up on shaky arms, and strong ones helped him sit up the rest of the way. He looked around him, frowning. _What the heck_? Concrete blocks and bars; two police officers, one who was vaguely familiar; and . . . _Matches Malone_?

Memories of the last forty-eight hours crashed over him. He was supposed to be Robin Malone! Wally had called Roy, but if necessary, Roy would have informed Batman if Matches Malone needed to swing by Happy Harbor Police Department to pick up his daughter. That answered one of his questions.

"How are you feeling, _Richard_?" Malone asked him.

Dick blinked, and his gaze jerked up to meet that of the man kneeling in front of him. Bruce's steady gaze stared back at him; a wealth of information there for him. He looked over at the officers again, and then glanced down at himself.

His white shirt was stiff with blood still, but more importantly, it was remarkably flat and comfortingly familiar. His hand came up to rub across it. Yup! Nothing there but Dick Grayson! He grinned, happy to be back in his own skin before freezing suddenly . . . _Uh oh_ , as the realization of where he was again struck him!

He glanced up at Officer Moore, this time with wary eyes. Turning his head, the two prostitutes in the cell behind him waved their fingers at him, smiling.

 _Oh . . . Shit_.


	21. Derailment - Where There Is Smoke

**SPOILER ALERT! Don't read any further if you haven't read the story "Derailment" and you plan to.**

 **Here is the first version of "Ch. 18 - A Turn For The Worse". A rewrite was in order. The first little bit should sound familiar, however, as I chose to keep that part. But those of you who have read the story will see a HUGE difference in the scene.**

 **Derailment - "Where There Is Smoke"**

 **No Warnings (I think) . . . Rating "T" (just in case I missed something)**

* * *

Lunch had been . . . interesting. Robin had to admit, beaver wasn't half bad, and entertained himself by wondering what Alfred's culinary skills could do with it, and imagining the man's face if, when he got home, he asked for it.

Conner's fever was the lowest it have been over the past two days, but the wound in his thigh was still red, swollen, and hot to the touch. He had a smaller gouge in his shoulder that he had gotten when the baggage car had derailed, but it appeared to be doing well enough. Healing, but too slowly.

His fever would be back only too soon. Robin's antibiotic could only do so much. He bought his friend time, but not nearly enough; maybe a day or two at most. How long before the League would begin searching for them? The train had been scheduled to arrive today by two in the afternoon. Batman would know by now that they were in trouble, but the weather wasn't cooperating. It was still too dangerous out there to fly the Bioship, and Robin doubted that even the Batwing could brave the storm safely.

The idea that Batman might still try it was worrisome. He kind of hoped that Alfred might be able to talk Bruce from doing anything stupid, but the trusted butler was a continent away; his influence weakened by the distance. Maybe someone from the League . . .? Robin knew that Green Lantern and Superman were both off-world at the moment on missions of their own. Neither were scheduled back for another day or two.

Even if they could expect a rescue right away, Robin was sure that nothing remained of the baggage car derailment at the bridge. The car had been washed away by the river and any scars that remained were covered by the snow. Ramón confirmed that they were two miles downriver from where they began. There were no clues visible for any search party to find; at least, not until the spring.

Robin fiddled with his belt buckle, trying to repair the damage circuitry while light remained, but it didn't take long for him to realize there wasn't anything he could do to fix it. The battery, however, was still in good shape.

He thought he could use another tracking device from his belt; one that he would normally use to track criminals. Those were linked to Robin's computer, but Batman should be able to recognize the signal as one of his own. If Robin could manage it, he might be able to use his battery to boost the signal, but that wouldn't help until someone was out there looking for them.

At least they had accomplished the task of moving the cot nearer to the window. Ramón had looked at them funny over the request, stating that it also put the cot nearer to any drafts coming from the window and door, but he had complied easily enough. Even so, the window didn't get direct light from the sun for more than a couple of hours during the winter months, and that was when there wasn't a wall of clouds blocking it.

Better than nothing . . .

Ramón had worried about their friends as well once he and Conner told him about them. He shook his head, but assured the boys that there wasn't anything he could have done for them had they remembered earlier.

"If the weather's permitting, and Conner is feeling as sprightly as he did today, I might take a looksee tomorrow," he had promised them. Nobody mentioned that he would likely be searching for bodies.

It was the best he could do, and Robin felt a little guilty asking him to do more when he had already been playing nurse, maid, and cook for the two of them since he rescued them from the river. They had discussed the option of Ramón making a trip to the cabin, and biologist had laid out of map of the surrounding mountains.

"It's a fair distance, even in good weather," their biologist host had told them. "Would take Cecil and me near on six hours normally. Could probably cut that time down by a good hour and a half if I didn't have to hike around to this trail, but there's a cliff right along here," he had pointed out. "Climbing equipment is just too heavy and takes up too much space, what with my other supplies. There's just no help for it."

At the moment, Ramón was out collecting enough wood to get them through the night while there was light left. Robin glanced over at Conner who was feeling up to playing with Cecil. He grinned at the sight of the other boy running his hand under the blankets as Cecil bounced, dodged, and pounced on the moving lump.

Every now and then, the fox would become so excited that he would race around the shack; leaping on the table and sending Robin's tools scattering; knocking the traps and cages over; bumping into baskets and boots; then hopping on top of the cabinet and rattling the water pitcher and bowl kept there.

Robin had to lunge to keep the items from tumbling from their perches whenever the fox went crazy, and Conner laughed at their antics from the cot. Robin collapsed into the rocking chair after the last go round, coughing and wheezing a bit, but enjoying the activity nonetheless.

"Are you alright," Conner asked.

Despite being sick, the older boy had smiled and laughed more this day than Robin could ever remember seeing him do while healthy. Apparently, the combination of fatigue and not having to live up to an impossible standard had eased the young clone's anger to a manageable level for once. Conner actually appeared to be relaxed for the first time since Robin had met him.

Robin waved the question away as he caught his breath. "I think you are doing that on purpose just to rile him up," Robin accused.

"He's cute," Conner shrugged, but the crooked smile he wore remained.

"Yeah, he is," Robin admitted. "Too bad I couldn't talk Batman into letting me get one."

"You mean for the Batcave?" Conner remarked dryly. "When are you going to finally admit that he's your dad?"

"I'm not admitting anything," Robin retorted. He allowed Cecil to snatch his attention when the fox jumped up into his lap, demanding a belly rub.

"He likes you."

Rob snorted. "Yeah, well, he likes you, too." Robin scratched the little fox's ears and it made a blissful, growly noise at him. "My life is too complicated for a pet right now, anyway." And would likely always be so . . .

"How so?" Conner watched him curiously. Despite rooming together and seeing Robin without his mask, he still knew next to nothing about the younger boy. He certainly didn't recognize him.

Robin shrugged. "It just is," unwilling to explain. How to explain living with the Batman?

* * *

They were interrupted as Ramón entered the cabin abruptly. He tromped over to the fireplace, and practically dumped his load of wood next to it. He turned immediately to shut the door, and began bustling around collecting things.

Conner sat up a little more. Their host was serious and intent on something.

"What's going on," Robin asked tentatively.

Ramón shoved several of the cages out of his way and picked up a rope. He pulled a couple of furs from the chest; emptying it.

"I spotted smoke in the distance," he told them. "Smoke means people. Ain't no natural lightning strikes this time of year. Has to be people!"

"People?" Conner exchanged glances with Robin. "You mean . . ."

"I ain't promising nothing, mind you," Ramón declared. "Don't be getting your hopes up, but the only other people known to be out here would be your friends."

The boys grinned. _Roy and Artemis were alive_?

Ramón noticed and stopped. He rapped his knuckles on the tabletop. "Hey! You two best be hearing me now. There could be another reason behind it . . ."

"But that would be unlikely, wouldn't it? You just said . . ." Robin argued.

"I know what I just said, son, but I also just told you not to be pinning all your hopes on my finding them all safe and sound." The man told them almost harshly. "This could be nothing!"

Robin opened his mouth, but Ramón cut him off. "A train car derailed! We don't know what all happened in the wreckage. Some machine could have spontaneously combusted or some such whatnot. The key words here being that _we just don't know_! Not without my going and checking it out first."

The woodsman stomped over to the cabinet and pulled out a thermometer. He stuck it under Robin's tongue. "Be quiet and let it work." He warned. "I need to know you boys aren't going to up and expire on me while I'm gone."

Robin watched wide eyed as he reached up into the rafters and began pulling equipment down that neither had noticed before. A couple of pairs of snowshoes tumbled down. Ramón picked a pair and shoved the other back between the boards. He shoved his partially-depleted first aid kit into a satchel along with his last roll of bandages.

"It ain't much, but I may need to do a bit of doctoring along the way," he muttered to himself.

Cecil was getting worked up at his master's activities. Did this mean they were going home? If foxes could talk . . .

Ramón stopped and tugged the thermometer out of Robin's mouth, and read it.

"Ninety-nine," he announced. "Damn, boy, we just can't get you any lower, can we?"

"It's barely anything," Robin complained. "You can't even call that a fever."

"I can call it what I want," he said. "You had an aspirin with your beaver tail. That means that you still have one."

He washed the thermometer off and shook it as he approached Conner. "You next, young'un. Let's see how you're doing."

Conner turned his head away. "Will how I'm doing make a difference in whether or not you go out to find our friends?"

Ramón cocked a bushy eyebrow. "Could . . . Depends."

"I'm fine," the older boy declared mulishly.

Ramón stared at his obstinate expression. Then he shook his head and narrowed his eyes. He might make a lousy nurse and a worse father, but Ramón knew how to get things done. He kneeled on the cot and grabbed Conner's nose; holding it closed until the stubborn boy had to open his mouth. He stuck the thermometer in.

"Before you yank that out," he warned, "be aware that I can just wrestle you down and take your temperature from the other end. I _will_ be getting a reading on you or I won't step out of this shack." He waved a hand at the door. "The chances that your friends made it are slim to none. But you two have a good shot of getting out here alive if we can just get a handle on your infection and keep that damned fever under control."

Conner looked at him confused; his eyes wide. He had never been manhandled in his short life, and it put where he was in perspective. And what did Old Oily mean by taking his temperature from the other end? Conner glance past the burly woodsman to Robin. His eyebrows rose in surprise as Robin shook his head at him rapidly.

Apparently, the other end was to be avoided at all costs . . . Conner leaned back and sulked, but he left the thermometer in place obediently. A couple of minutes later, he was reading it.

"One hundred and one," Ramón frowned. "This is up a degree from an hour ago."

Robin stood up and moved closer. "Are you staying here then?"

He moved over to the cabinet and pulled out the large bottle of pills. There weren't a whole lot left. It was time to use other methods to prevent his fever from spiking. He looked at the younger boy.

"It might be better if I make the trip to the cabin instead," Ramón mused. "He's improved some, but this might be the lull before the storm. I can't keep dosing him with aspirin. It barely keep a handle on things and his temperature won't stay down for long."

"B-But our friends . . ." Robin stammered.

"Son, I have to make the right decision here. I could spend the rest of the day and all night searching for your friends and come up empty. But I have your brother right here and in need."

Conner was shaking his head. "Don't use me as an excuse," he said. "Roy and Artemis could be out there! Please, I'd rather you go after them . . . Even if you come back 'empty'."

* * *

 **As you can see, if Ramon left to search out Artemis and Roy, then Robin couldn't leave to go after the much needed antibiotics for Conner. He wasn't so bad here, but not enough to leave him alone. So, Ramon couldn't notice the smoke; and Conner needed to be bad enough that Ramon couldn't leave him; setting the stage for Robin to hike there himself.**


	22. Lab Rat: Running Scared - Trust

**SPOILER ALERT! Although I didn't use this at all, it does refer to situations that give away things that happen in the latter half of the story.**

 **This is the first version that I began writing for "Chapter 41 - Trust" in "Lab Rat: Running Scared". While I had Robin's mindset correct, the setup wouldn't provide the right situation for the rest of the chapter. The change from this to the final version is pretty large.**

 **Lab Rat: Running Scared - "Trust, vers. 1"**

 **Warning: Dangerous and Irresponsible Behavior - Rating "T"**

* * *

Balance. Equilibrium. They were an acrobat's greatest gifts. Knowing which way was up and down; knowing where the bar was located even with your eyes closed. It was something Dick had always known how to do for as long as he could remember. Of course he could only remember three or so years, but he couldn't remember a time without it . . . Until now.

Now, he remembered several months of not being able to manage it. It came back eventually, but he had worked harder than he ever worked in his life to do it. It still wasn't perfect, though. He remembered the quadruple somersault . . . He knew that he was one of three people in the world who could do it. Or at least he had been.

Robin clenched his jaw as he stared at the trapeze in front of him. He would do it again. If he could do it again, then he would be back! That was what he kept telling himself through the weeks that followed his abandoning his wheelchair. He could handle two without even thinking about it. Three was still challenging, however. Four . . . Would it remain out of range?

He started to put up the net, but thought about how he would consistently fail to accomplish his goals while using it. The net provided him an out. He didn't _have_ to succeed while it was in use. Without it, he would succeed or fall. He bit his lip as stared at the bar with determination. He would do it this time or else.

If he failed, then Batman would be able to choose from the other teen heroes present to replace him. If he failed, he wouldn't want to face the man again. Win-win, he decided, pulling the bar to him with the rope.

* * *

 **Robin's self-esteem was such here that he is engages in behavior that is almost suicidal in nature as he tries to compete with the metas on his team.**


	23. MoD 1 - Mean Drunks

**SPOILER ALERT! Don't read further if you plan to read "MoD 1: Stranger in my Skin".**

 **Although I am posting the whole chapter, only the second half of it was needing rewritten. This is the first version of Ch. 18 from "Strangers in my Skin". This story was supposed to be a lighthearted comedy, but in bottom of this chapter something went dark.**

 **MoD 1: Stranger In My Skin - "Mean Drunks"**

 **Warning: Some Language . . . Rating "T"**

* * *

By the time Dick and Wally had reached the town, it was time for the first movie to start. It was called 'Attack of the Zombie Bride', and was about a bride who was turned into a zombie and went around eating her wedding party. It sounded a little lame, but it had zombies, so they went and had a blast, throwing popcorn at the screen whenever the bride caught one of her bridesmaids. The bride was dead and dragged a foot behind her; how the heck could she possible catch healthy, living people with two good feet?

Dick only caught Wally staring at him once, but it was more because he had his sunglasses off in the theater. The movie was dark over all, but a few scenes provided enough light to get a decent glimpse of his face. Dick didn't look at his friend. It was bad enough, he supposed, that Wally was seeing his eyes in profile.

"Wally, quit staring at me," he whispered loudly. "You're creeping me out."

"Sorry, Rob," Wally leaned over to whisper in his ear. "But you've got some amazingly long lashes. It almost looks like those Hollywood fake lashes. Were they that long before . . . you know?"

"No," Dick sighed. "Please, don't make me have to put my sunglasses on in here. I won't be able to see the movie."

"Oh, right! Sorry, Dudette." Wally started munching on his popcorn again.

Since the next movie was about a vegetable that ate Manhattan, they decided to go to the pizza parlor a couple of blocks from the theater while they waited for the next movie to show. Dick was laughing; forgetting for a moment his problems; even that he was a girl. He was enjoying himself with his best friend and that was all that was important. Wally threw a mushroom at Dick, and Dick bent his head and caught it in his mouth. Wally fell over laughing.

After a little while, the waitress came over and dropped the check in front of Wally, instead of placing it in the center of the table.

"I'll be your cashier whenever you're ready," she told him. "Or you can pay at the register as you leave."

Dick gaped at her retreating back, but Wally was snickering as he pulled out his wallet.

"Wait a minute," Dick said, reaching for the check. "How much is it? What do I owe?"

Wally just shook his head, grinning. "Don't worry about it, Rob," he told his friend, sliding the bill out of Dick's reach. "I've got this one. It's on me."

Dick frowned at him. "But that's not fair. We always split the ticket when we go out."

"That's because when we normally go out together, it isn't a date. The waitress, however, thinks that this is." Wally cracked up at the look on Dick's face. "Yeah, yeah, I know it isn't. But we can't disappoint her, can we? Besides, she cute. I don't want her thinking I'm some kind of cheapskate or something in case I decide I want to ask her out later on."

The reminder was brutal and embarrassing. A huge blush crept up Dick's face.

"O-okay," he sighed. There was no sense in arguing about it here. "But keep the receipt, and I'll reimburse you for my half when we get back to the mountain."

Wally grinned at him. "You're a pal."

Dick rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Yeah, whatever."

"I don't suppose you'll let me go up and pay by myself," Wally asked. "Maybe I can get her phone number."

Dick blinked at him, a little offended in spite of himself. "You're going to try to pick her up while in the middle of a date with _me_? Seriously, Dude. That's lame, even for you."

Wally leaned over and pinched his cheek, teasingly, and Dick slapped his hand away. "Don't be hatin', girlfriend. I'll just casually mention that you're my cousin in visiting from Minnesota, and my dad wanted me to take you out and show you a good time while you were here."

"And you think she'll buy that?" Dick looked at him skeptically. "We look nothing alike. And who says I want to be related to you, anyway?"

"Would you rather be my girlfriend?" Wally snickered, enjoying his friend's discomfort. What were best buds for, anyway if not for a few good laughs? He stood up; his wallet and the check in hand.

Dick huffed. "Well, since you put it that way."

"Look, I'll return the favor if ever I get turned into a girl, okay," Wally smirked.

"Whatever, man. I'll meet you outside. I need to go to the bathroom." Dick waved the Cretin away.

Wally started to turn away, but stopped abruptly. The smirk on his face turned decidedly evil. He leaned down to whisper in Dick's ear.

"And which bathroom would that be," he asked casually. "The men's or the _ladies_?"

The blush and all the normal coloring in Dick's face drained away in an instant. It was probably a good idea that he was sitting down because he would have likely swooned like a freaking damsel in distress so fast did the blood leave his head. The restaurant spun a bit. He shook his head to clear it.

" _Oh shit_!" Dick glanced up at Wally. "I totally forgot. We were even talking about my being a girl and I _still_ forgot about it! How messed up is that?"

Wally had to put a hand on the back of the booth to keep from falling on the floor, he was laughing that hard. "This is why I love hanging out with you! You are so damned entertaining!"

"I can't go into the ladies' room," Dick squeaked. "I just can't do it!"

Wally wiped his streaming eyes with the back of his hand as he caught his breath. "Well, how bad is it? Do you want to go back to the mountain? I can probably run you there and back without missing more than the opening credits of the next movie."

"It's not bad yet," Dick grumbled. "Look, go on and pay. I'll be up in a second."

As Wally walked away, Dick picked up his cardigan. He didn't need it inside, but outside was getting cold now that the sun was fully down. But then again, it was the end of October. He supposed they were lucky it was as mild as it was.

Dick stood up and started to put on the sweater when it was pulled out of his hands. He turned around and found himself staring at a broad chest coated in a flannel shirt. He glanced up at the dark-haired guy in front of him, and then peeked around to count two more guys as equally as tall and broad as the first.

"Um, do you mind?" Dick held out his hand. "I'd kind of like to have my sweater back."

"What's your name, pretty lady," the first guy asked. He made no move to give Dick the sweater back.

Dick blew out his breath, frustrated. "Seriously? That's your best pick up line? Are you really so hard up that you have to resort to holding girls' belongings ransom just to get them to give you their names?"

The look on his face as his buddies laughed at his expense made Dick regret giving the Neanderthal's ego a figurative black eye. But he didn't want to lose the cardigan. Not only did he not know if M'gann could reconstruct Bruce's sweatshirt without it; it was cold outside.

"Come on, guy," Dick smiled. "Just give me my sweater."

"Not without a name," he insisted.

Dick looked back over his shoulder at Wally. The redhead was smiling and chatting their waitress up.

Bruiser moved around Dick, blocking his view of Wally. "Your boyfriend looks like he's found someone else to keep him warm tonight." He leaned in, grinning. "You don't need your sweater to keep you warm. I'll be glad to do it for you. You can wear me instead."

" _Ew_! Oh God, how do I get _that_ visual out of my head now?" Dick probably shouldn't have said that out loud. "Uh, I mean look, I'm too young for you, dude. I'm just thirteen. Jailbait, you know?" These guys looked early twenties, at least.

"Right." The fellow didn't know how to take no for an answer. "Your name."

Dick's shoulders slumped. "Robin, okay? My name is Robin." Thankfully, there wasn't a way for any of them to connect a female named Robin to the male hero Robin of Batman and Robin fame.

"Such a pretty, little bird," he said, pleased with his attempted wit. "You want your sweater back?" He waited until Dick had nodded to continue. "Then turn around and allow me to be gentlemanly and help you with it."

The last thing Dick wanted to do was to turn his back on these assholes. "Why can't you just give it back to me? Why do you have to be such a jerk about it?"

The guy grabbed Dick's arm hard enough to leave bruises and jerked him around to face the table.

" _Hey_! _Ow_ . . ." Dick glared over his shoulder at the man.

What was this guy's problem? Didn't he see the people that were still in here? All of them potential witnesses if Dick chose to press charges of sexual harassment, and assault and battery. He now had the bruises to prove it. Dick looked around at the occupied tables. It was getting late, so there were only three tables that still had customers at them. None were looking in his direction, however. In fact, they were studiously looking in the opposite direction; like they knew who this guy was and didn't want to get involved.

 _Great_ , he thought. _I'll get my cardigan back, and then if the guy doesn't back off, I'll do something about it myself._

The guy physically guided Dick's arm into one of the sleeves. Dick raised the other arm up expectantly, so that his touching it didn't become necessary, but the guy grabbed the other arm as well and held it as he slid the other sleeve on. He slid his hands up and over Dick's shoulders as he tugged the cardigan up. Then, before Dick could turn around, the guy slid his hands around Dick's waist, and pulled his back against his front hard.

Dick gasped. _What the hell_?!

"Hey! Get _off_ of me!" he yelped, shoving an elbow back into the cretin's stomach.

He grunted, but continued to hold on.

"Let _go_!" Dick stomped his boot onto the guy's insole. His hold loosened, and Dick turned around to shove at him. His eyes widened when the big fellow didn't budge and inch. Dick knew he was in trouble when the fellow started laughing. It wasn't a good laugh.

"Uh oh," he said, under his breath.

He was gauging how much he could do as a civilian to defend himself when the guy was suddenly no longer there. Dick looked and found his assaulter lying on top of the other two on the floor. Wally was abruptly standing in between Dick and the other three.

"Are you okay," the speedster asked him. The redhead looked furious.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks," Dick said. His heart was pounding, but he was okay. "Where have you been?"

Wally threw him a disgusted look. "I was over there _flirting_ like an imbecile while these three morons were assaulting you. Why didn't you yell for me or something? I just turned around to see what was taking you so long only to find that guy all over you."

"I thought I could handle it, okay? I was trying not to make a scene. It just got out of hand really fast." Dick told him, tugging on his arm. "Come on, let's go before the movie starts."

"Next time, would you please just make a damned scene, all right?"

Wally glared at the three men as they climbed to their feet before taking Dick's arm and pulling him toward the exit. It wasn't until they were outside that either of them breathed a sigh of relief. They began to walk in the direction of the theater when the door to the restaurant slammed closed.

"Hey! We weren't finished yet, little bird."

Dick and Wally's eyes met. Well, damn, it didn't look like they were going to get to see that second movie, after all.

* * *

 **These guys hitting on Robin were trouble with a capital T. I honestly didn't think much about it until I got started writing the next chapter. I followed the setup from here and have no idea what was going through my head. I was in the zone, so to speak, and my fingers just kept typing and following the most probable course . . . Needless to say, I couldn't publish it at all! I needed happy drunks - not mean and vile drunks!**


	24. Derailment - Epilogue, version 1

***Obviously, this contains spoilers for the story "Derailment", so if you plan to read the story, you might do that first.***

 **I told you it took me several tries to get it right. Here is one of the many versions of "Derailment's" epilogue that I wrote before deciding it wasn't working. It was frankly too depressing. I like ending on a happier note and Robin was having trouble with his near-death experience to fix it all in one sitting. We had all the drama already - Now, was the time to wrap things up and leave you feeling satisfied, much like you would after a great meal. But all in all, it wasn't all bad . . . Bits and pieces were quite good, in fact. Enough so that I wanted to share it with you here.**

 **Derailment - "Epilogue: Version 1"**

 **Warning: Um, maybe some little bit of language, possibly? Rating: T (just in case, I forgot something)**

* * *

The Bioship cut through the sky, low so as not to attract attention on radar and camouflaged so no one would notice it. So low, in fact, it almost skimmed the tree tops.

"Can we go faster?" Robin asked over his shoulder at M'gann.

"We can but it isn't advisable at this low altitude," she smiled at him.

Robin had talked nonstop for the past week once Batman had given the go ahead for this trip. There was no doubt the Boy Wonder's excitement, but what had surprised her was Conner's. Although not so publically displayed, M'gann was very aware of the young Kryptonian's own eagerness. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as Conner leaned forward in his seat, his gaze scanning the landscape with anticipation.

"I can't believe there is still snow on," Artemis exclaimed. "It's been five months! Shouldn't the snow be gone by now?"

"The snow is only up high," Wally pointed out.

"That's where we're going, up high," Robin grinned.

"I have read that there is often snow in the mountains even in summer," Kaldur told them. "It is very beautiful here. I am sorry that I was not available to join you on the mission."

Conner smirked. "You would have come in handy hauling Robin's butt out of the river."

Robin laughed. "Oh, yeah," he smiled. "You were definitely missed, Kaldur."

"I am glad you are able to laugh about it now," he commented. "I remember hearing how close it had been for some of you."

Artemis rubbed her arms. "Too close. I'm not ready to laugh over it yet."

Robin kicked back and stuck his feet up, placing his hands behind his head. "Just enjoying the feeling of being alive and healthy again. I mean if you can't laugh about it . . ."

"I hear you," Artemis said. "Talk to me in another five months, maybe."

"And yet you wouldn't dream of being left behind, princess, would you?" Roy teased, kicking a foot into the back of her seat.

"Hey! Keep those big, smelly feet to yourself," she snarked back at him.

"Hah! You like the smell of my feet," Roy joked.

"Ew!" Artemis rolled her eyes but she was smiling.

Wally looked back over his shoulder at the two. "When did you smell Roy's feet?"

"When he came back from hunting or collecting wood and had to dry out his boots and socks by the fire," she reminded him.

M'gann knew that Artemis had spent the second night the team was at the watchtower with Wally on the observation deck, telling him her experience in what she had called a mission disaster. That wasn't quite true, however. Despite everything, they had been able to recover the prototype weapon and from what her Uncle J'onn told her, the League was currently working on a set of armor to shield Superman from the red sun radiation it produced.

She glanced at Conner and smiled. They were making Superboy a set as well and Superman was busy overseeing the project himself. Conner was happier now than she had ever seen him. He still was impatient and his temper quick but the reconciliation between him and Superman made all the difference. He was smiling now and would even laugh sometimes, although only Robin seemed to manage that feat easily. But his attitude had improved ever since Superman had taken him to Smallsville to meet his parents.

That and now this trip was such a high for him, Conner might have been able to actually fly here all on his own, she thought with a smirk. He glanced back at her and flashed her a brilliant smile before leaning over to tease Robin again.

"By my calculations, we should be there by now," Robin announced.

"And according to the ship's coordinates, it should be just over that ridge ahead," M'gann confirmed. "We're almost there."

It was everything Robin could do to sit still. The Bioship told her that he was constantly straining against the safety straps that held him safe in his seat.

"I am anxious to meet this biologist who saved your lives," Kaldur said. "Dr. Dupree sounds like a fascinating individual."

"And Cecil," Robin grinned. "I wonder if he'll remember us?" he asked Conner.

"We'll know in a minute," Conner told him. He pointed as they cleared the last of the trees and the cabin finally came into view. "We're here."

"That looks a lot bigger than the shack we were in," Artemis noted.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it," Rob agreed. "We might all fit inside at the same time."

Artemis looked at the Boy Wonder. "Don't you know? You and Roy nearly died trying to reach it!"

"He made it, but the concussion he got slamming into the side of the cliff wiped his memory of it," Roy told her. "What's the last thing you remember before waking up on the Watchtower, Rob?"

Robin sobered a second as he tried to recall. "Um . . . I can remember walking away from the shack after telling Conner I would be back but little else."

That was a lie, however.

* * *

Robin shivered. He still had nightmares on occasion . . . The images that came to him in the dark were chaotic; glimpses of snow, broken trees, and boulders raining down only a foot or so from his face. He would feel the cliff shaking him from his perch and then he would be falling and falling. He hadn't fallen in real life but that wouldn't prevent him from waking up screaming, nor would it allow him to go back to sleep. At least, not without Bruce's help.

He was grateful that Bruce had been so understanding. Dick figured that had been because Bruce had his own nightmares from that mission to contend with. The man never complained about it, though, and, after the first night it had happened, Bruce saved time by simply sliding into bed with him and holding him.

Although the dreams no longer came nightly, he preferred to pretend that he didn't remember the climb or the avalanche during the daylight hours. Maybe it would have been so bad if he could remember making it to the top and reaching the cabin but his last real memory was the world collapsing all around him.

"You don't remember the avalanche?" Artemis asked him.

Robin shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it. He was a little afraid that doing so would bring the nightmares back. Batman almost didn't approve of the trip because of it but Robin had convinced him that facing the mountain again would be cathartic. And he almost believed it himself. The truth was that Robin wanted to see Ramón and Cecil again and prove to the mountain and himself that it hadn't beaten him.

He had survived.

"So, what started it," Conner asked. "If Robin can't remember, does anyone know?"

Roy snorted. "That would be Rob," he chuckled. "He set it off with one of his exploding batarangs. Artie and I heard the explosion from the river."

Robin shrugged, ready to change the subject. "I'll have to take your word on that."

"You do just that," Roy told him. "Crazy kid."

He must have been crazy . . . What had he been thinking? He only remembered the explosion clearly, however, not the actions he had taken to have caused it.

"We're here," M'gann announced as the Bioship settled in the clearing just beyond the cabin's front porch.

Robin, Conner, and Artemis were already out of their seats before M'gann could open the hatch. Roy followed at a more leisurely pace but was right behind them. The rest of the team brought up the rear. They understood that their teammates, instead of dreading the return to a place they nearly died, had bonded with the wilderness and, in particular, with the wildlife biologist who had gone out of his way to save them.

* * *

The cabin door swung open and Ramón stomped out onto his front porch.

"Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit," he boomed cheerfully. "The young'uns have come to see us, Cecil. And here I thought you might have forgotten me."

Robin reached the biologist first and nearly disappeared as he was engulfed in the giant of a man in a bearhug. Ramón didn't even bother releasing Robin when he pulled Conner into his embrace, too.

"Boys, welcome back," Ramón grinned. He let them go and caught Artemis up next, swinging her around. "Well, missy, I hope you've been keeping these rapscallions in line."

"It is definitely a chore, Dr. Dupree," Artemis smiled. "They keep me on my toes."

"It's Ramón, missy," he corrected. "I hope you haven't forgotten already."

"Right, Ramón. Of course, I didn't," she assured him. If the others were surprised that she didn't correct their host about her own name, they didn't mention it.

Ramón turned to greet Roy. Of the four, he had had the least amount of time to get to know this one, but he sobered when remembering how close the young archer came to dying when they found him. It had been obvious that the redhead considered himself a kind of shepherd of the flock, but young man's easiness with the young'uns bespoke of a mutual respect between them.

* * *

As the two shook hands, Roy smiled at the crusty woodsman. For all that he met Ramón for twenty minutes that last day here, the man had saved two of his teammates' lives and had looked after Artemis when Roy had left to find Robin. He owed him . . . Maybe even liked him a bit. Ramón had been amusing when he had visited them on the Watchtower. For whatever reason, Roy had jumped at the chance to tag along when the team told him of this impending visit.

* * *

"So, you hiked to the cabin wearing these?" Wally stood on the porch staring at the snowshoes hanging on the wall. "They look a little big."

Robin grinned. "They ought to. They belong to Ramón."

"How the heck did you walk in them?" Wally lifted one of the snowshoes from the peg. He balanced himself with a hand on the wall as he measured the snowshoe with his foot.

"It wasn't easy. I basically had to walk like this," Robin told him while demonstrated his wide-legged walk. "I hadn't made it a mile before muscles I didn't know I had begun aching."

"And yet you didn't turn back . . ." Wally shook his head. "I don't know whether to congratulate you or smack you in the back of your fool head."

Robin sobered a bit. "Conner was dying, Walls."

Wally knew this. He knew the whole story having heard a version of it from everyone involved but of the four of them, strangely, it was Robin who had been the least forthcoming about his experiences. A good portion of it, the speedster realized, he couldn't remember because of injuries or illness but whenever Wally brought it up or asked a question, it was like Dick would pull away from him.

"How was nearly killing yourself supposed to save him?"

Sure enough, Robin shut down and turned away. He stood on the edge of the porch and looked out over the field. You couldn't quite see down into the valley from here. The cliff was too far away from where the cabin sat and the surrounding trees masked all but the granite peaks of the opposing mountains. But for all of that, the view of the snow-topped, craggy peaks and early Spring crocuses were breathtaking.

"Why won't you talk about it?" Wally asked. "It might make you feel better."

"I told you everything I can remember," Robin said.

Wally snorted. "You might be able to get the others to believe that lie but I know you."

Robin shook his head. "Not yet. Please, Wally . . . Not yet."

The speedster sighed. "I can't believe you wanted to come back here. What's more, I can't believe you managed to talk the Bat into letting you."

The younger boy shrugged his shoulders. "I can't explain it, Walls. I just . . . I needed to come back here and face it one more time."

"No, you didn't," Wally disagreed. "If you never stepped foot back here again, you'd have been just fine."

Robin glanced at his friend. "I told you, you wouldn't understand."

Wally watched as Robin stepped off the front porch and walked away.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Tell me what you think? If you read the published epilogue from the story already, do you agree with my choice to write another version?**

 **Although . . . I might just write one of the nightmares Robin was bound to have suffered after this mission and add it to "Collection 1: The Stuff of Nightmares". Hmm . . .**


	25. Derailment - Epilogue, version 2

**Here is another attempt at an epilogue. And while I really enjoyed this one, I knew it would require more than one chapter to finish the story up from this point. But I'm glad to have the opportunity to share it with you, nonetheless. When you imagine some of what they might have been doing while visiting with Old Oily months later, picture this . . . (Of course, in this version there is more snow on in the area of Ramon's cabin than in the final product. Read ahead and see for yourself.)**

 **SPOILER ALERT! *This is a version of the epilogue and will contain spoilers to the story. If you plan to read "Derailment" in the future, do that BEFORE you check out this deleted scene.***

 **Derailment - "Conquering the Mountain" (version 2 of the epilogue)**

 **Warning . . . Rated: K+ (just because - okay, one, little word)**

* * *

"These things are stupid," Conner picked himself up out of the snow. He wiped his face with one hand as he inadvertently crushed his snowboard in the other.

M'gann made a face. "Conner, now you don't have board."

"I don't need one," he insisted.

"How will you keep up with the others, then?" she asked.

At that point, Wally lost his balance on the same pile of snow that sent Conner tumbling. He came to a sliding stop almost at the couple's feet.

Conner looked at the sprawled speedster and the back up to his girlfriend. "Somehow, I don't think that is going to be a problem," he drawled sarcastically.

"Watch out! Down in front," Robin's voice yelled out.

Conner landed on the dazed Wally, drawing an oomph out of him as M'gann floated out of the way just in time. Robin hit the bump at high speed and sailed over their heads. He completed a flip before landed perfectly and continuing on down the slope with a whoop. Kaldur was right behind him, clearing the area and coming down gracefully.

"Has Kaldur snowboarded often before?" M'gann asked.

Wally spit out a face full of snow and answered. "Not before today. Of course, he took to it immediately. He said it felt much like surfing to him."

Conner snorted. "It's not like surfing."

"So, you've been surfing, big guy?" Wally asked him.

"Well, no . . ." he admitted, "but how hard can it be?"

"Depends on if you want to remain upright or not," Wally muttered. At their looks, he shrugged from his prone position. "Hard."

"What's hard?" Roy asked as he and Artemis swooshed to a stop by the three. They had traditional skis on and neither looked the worse for wear.

"Surfing," Conner volunteered.

"Maybe that's why you crashed and burned there, buddy," Roy smirked. "This is skiing, not surfing."

"Are you okay, Wally?" Artemis asked. She struggled to control her expression. It was more than obvious that she wanted to laugh.

"You need to bend your knees and then extend out with your whole body when taking a jump," Roy offered unhelpfully.

Wally snorted derisively as he climbed to his feet. "I do much better when the soles of my boots are in contact with the ground." He glanced at the blonde, blushing slightly, damn his fair complexion. "I'll survive," he assured her.

Roy held a hand over his eyes as he looked in the direction Robin and Kaldur disappeared in. "Those two are nuts! Rob's only been back in action for a month. At the rate he's going, he'll be in traction by the day's end . . . And he'll take Kaldur with him."

Artemis laughed. "Are you kidding? Those two look like they've been born to do this."

Conner finished breaking his board into kindling. "Well, that explains it, then."

They others looked at him and Conner shrugged. "Must be the reason I've been face-planting every five feet. I was never 'born'."

He smirked at their expressions. The others still didn't know how to take his jokes, even after almost five months. Conner used to get angry at references to his origins but since Clark had finally taken an interest in him and Conner's new outlook on life, his attitude had improved. Not that he still didn't get frustrated and angry on occasion; one look at the pile of splinters that had been his snowboard was proof that he was still the irritable Superboy they all knew and loved but he was way more mellow than before.

"I guess you're done snowboarding?" Artemis asked, gesturing at the aforementioned splinters. "The day's still young. What are you going to do now? Go back to the cabin?"

Conner squinted in the direction opposite the cabin. While the team was taking advantage of the fun to be had when Mother Nature wasn't out to kill them, Ramón was out checking on his wolves. "I think I'll join Old Oily and see if he needs any help."

"You want some company?" M'gann asked him, but she already knew the answer.

"That's okay," Conner assured her. "I doubt Ramón would appreciate a bunch of us scaring his wolves away."

Artemis snorted. "Hardly. Those wolves aren't as easy to scare as all of that. Trust me!"

"Trust _us_ ," Roy corrected. "Those wolves aren't shy at all. At least with spring around the corner, even up here, it should be easier now for them to find prey."

"I suppose Wolf could accompany you," M'gann suggested.

The enormous white wolf had joined them on their trip and had been following the team as they barreled down the mountain on their snowboards and skis. Ramón had been taken at once by the beast and amazed at its intelligence. It fascinated him that science had the means of increasing an animal's cognitive ability like that. Cecil hadn't nearly been as thrilled.

The little fox took pains to avoid the wolf in its space. If it came out of hiding at all, it was to cuddle with Robin but it looked longingly at the clone. Conner had to put Wolf outside in order to coax the fox to come to him.

Conner shook his head. "No. Ramón said that Wolf was far too alpha to bring around his pack. It would disrupt the nature of the pack and as a result do the same to his study. I'll leave him here with you guys. There are still mountain lions in the area and Ramón said that the bears are leaving their dens."

Artemis shivered. "Good idea. As big as Wolf is, even and mountain lion and a bear would think twice before attacking us."

Roy frowned down the slope. "Why don't you send him on down to watch out for Robin and Kaldur? There are three of us here and M'gann's powers are sufficient to deal with any animals that might mess with us."

Conner turned his gaze down the mountainside. His X-ray vision was improving but he could only get a fuzzy image of their teammates as they celebrated their run at the bottom of the slope. Not enough to tell whether or not any danger was approaching, however.

"Wolf," Conner called to him. The white wolf trotted over happily. He was enjoying the freedom of the wilderness. "Find Robin and Kaldur. Watch over them out here, okay?"

Roy marveled again at the oddity of a wolf nodding in understanding to a human request as Conner's pet . . . friend, whatever the beast was to him.

Wolf turned and loped down the hill without hesitation. Kaldur was stronger than a human with faster reflexes but no one wanted to test his ability to wrestle a bear or a cougar after what Roy and Robin had gone through. The two would be safer for having Wolf's superior senses to alert them and Artie was right in that an animal that size would be intimidating to the other wildlife in the area.

"Meet you back at the cabin in a couple of hours, then?" Artemis asked Conner.

"Right. See you then," Conner waved at them and headed in the direction he knew the biologist to be.

* * *

Robin raced down the mountain with Kaldur on his tail.

"Hold up, Robin! Where are you going?" Kaldur called to him. "It is a long way back to the others."

Robin cut sharply to the left, right in Kaldur's path. The Atlantian swerved hard to avoid the younger boy only to be presented with a number of thick, heavy pines. He dropped immediately to stop himself from crashing into them, the thick snow cushioning his fall and providing a break. He skidding to a halt only a few feet from snow-covered boughs.

Kaldur twisted around to see Robin disappearing over the ridge. The boy had glanced over his shoulder, checking on him but not slowing. If Kaldur had not known better, he would have thought that Robin had cut him off purposely. It seemed uncharacteristically rude, not something he would expect from his young friend.

He was just climbing to his feet when Wolf appeared. The large beast bounded over and nosed the Atlantian affectionately.

"I am fine, Wolf," Kaldur said to him. "Thank you. Are the others coming?"

Wolf swung his head back and forth. His unnaturally intelligent yellow eyes met the pale green ones.

"Headed back to the cabin, are they?" Kaldur concluded.

Superboy's pet acknowledged with a bark.

"We have been out all day. I grow tired myself," he admitted. "But first I need to look for Robin. Will you join me?"

Wolf answered by bounding down in the direction that the boy had previously taken. Kaldur followed on his snowboard but at a much slower pace than he had been traveling.

* * *

He knew it was here. He had been here before after all, just five months earlier. He had had nightmares about it every night after he had gone home and the painkillers had been reduced enough that he could dream again. It, more than anything out here, had nearly destroyed him. Robin had very nearly ended that last night.

Falling . . . Why did it have to be falling? He had beat that demon early on right after his parents had died; Bruce had helped him through it. His parents had loved heights and falling had simply been a part of the business. Nets were always used in practice until the routine had become more than routine but second nature. They didn't have to think about it; they just did it. That net never came down until it was perfect and even then, only during the shows.

But his dreams wouldn't stop unless he conquered this one last challenge. Robin saw the valley outstretched in front of him as the route he took down the mountain ended at the thousand-foot high cliff. This was the reason Rob had cut Kaldur off. The Atlantian didn't know this drop off was here but Robin did.

"Robin!" Kaldur's voice came from behind him. "Stop!"

His friend must have noticed the cliff. Instead of stopping, however, Robin bent his knees and went faster. His hand hovering over his belt in preparation. Seconds later, the boy jetted out over oblivion. His board fell away and Robin spread his wings and flew.

Okay, it was better called falling . . . with style but as he looked out at the whitewater of the river snaking below and the way the valley slipped between the two mountains ahead of him; a lush, verdant color of green already as Spring arrived there months ahead of the upper reaches of the slope. Glorious . . . and deadly.

Deadly, that is, if one didn't wear a safety net or, as in his case, wings!

Robin hit the buckle and the pack on his back spread out into a full-sized hand glider. It lacked the normal bar used in most gliders but had two hand bars on either side of him to grasp and use to steer the glider on its course. He caught the updraft and spiraled upwards with a yell of triumph! Then, arching his back, Robin made a loop and started back down, angling his flight to skim above the clifftop. He laughed as he buzzed over Kaldur and Wolf's heads.

This was better than swinging, he thought. The freedom was amazing.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **I so wanted this to be included as I think you can see but to press on and add another chapter or two onto this would place the story in danger of becoming anticlimactic. Still, you can enjoy it here . . . ;D**

 **Don't forget to tell me what you think!**


	26. Derailment - Epilogue, version 3

**SPOILER ALERT! - *DO _NOT_ READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED "DERAILMENT" OR PLAN TO READ IT. TRUST ME, READING FURTHER WILL RUIN THE STORY FOR YOU!***

 **Here is yet another version of "Derailment's" epilogue. I was quite hung up on Robin's nightmares for a bit. How could you go through a near drowning event, an avalanche, a cougar attack, and falling from a cliff and not have a few issues afterwards. You know what I mean? Anyway, this promised to be a long road to mental recovery, something I didn't want to get into here. (I learned my lesson after Lab Rat: Running Scared - Recovery should be its own story.) Lots of DaddyBats! ahead and sweet Hurt/Comfort for those of you with addictions . . .**

 **Derailment - Not So Irrational Fears (V. 3 of the attempted epilogue)**

 **Warning: Nightmare and Panic Attack . . . Rated T (eh, not so bad, but just in case)**

* * *

The roar sounded like the end of the world! Ice, rocks, and sometimes an entire tree flew past him. Something scratch his face. Something caught his cape and yanked him from his perch and he was falling . . . falling forever. He screamed . . . not for his parents. They couldn't help him. They had fallen, too. No, he called for Batman; he called for Bruce!

Dick sat up as he jerked awake suddenly, the sound of Bruce's name still ringing in his ears. It was followed immediately by a sharp cry of pain. He grabbed at his ribs as his coughs compounded his punishment. Strong, warm hands grasped his shoulders as the bed dipped down only seconds later.

"Easy . . . You're safe. It's okay, Dick! I've got you," Bruce's voice reached him as the sound of his own coughing eased.

Dick whined, tears of fear and pain seeping from the corners of his eyes. Nothing hurt worse than having both broken ribs and pneumonia . . . At least, nothing in Dick's recent memories. Other things had hurt worse, but they were distant and this pain was immediate. He clutched at Bruce's shirt as Dick struggled to regain control of his breathing.

* * *

 **2 Months Later**

They parked the Batmobile and took to the rooftops. Going up wasn't too bad. Robin stood beside Batman and looked out over Gotham. It had been eight weeks since Robin had been rescued along with his teammates. His pneumonia had been cured after a week of aggressive antibiotics but his ribs had taken a bit longer to heal.

Bruce had announced that it would be a short patrol as Dick was just getting back his strength and stamina and he didn't want him overdoing it. Normally, Dick would complain about being overprotected but, the truth was, he wasn't quite one hundred percent yet. And he had learned from experience, no matter how he disliked it, that pushing oneself too hard immediately after convalescing a couple of months will only backfire on him. He did not want to be grounded for another couple of weeks because he was stupid and hurt himself.

Batman was going over the plan for the night and the route they would be taking but Robin only heard every third word. He had stepped onto the low wall lining the edge of the building and made the mistake of looking down. It hadn't looked so high from the ground. The building, however, was twenty stories . . . That equaled approximately two hundred feet.

Barely anything when compared to a thousand-foot cliff, really.

Should be a piece of cake . . . Should be.

Robin gulped. His eyes flicked over to Batman, wondering if he had heard it. The evening was cool and getting cooler but a bead of sweat trickled down the side of the boy's face as his chest tightened slightly and his stomach churned. The nightmares had stopped several weeks ago. He shouldn't be feeling this way, not out here.

"Ready to go?" Batman asked but he didn't wait for Robin's answer. He shot a line and leapt out into space swinging towards the next building across the intersection.

Robin held out his own grapple gun but his hand was shaking too badly. He tried it with two hands which helped but not much. Another bead of sweat ran down his forehead. His breathing had increased in his body's bid to get oxygen. The shaking in his hands began working its way down his body until he was forced to step back off of the wall and back onto roof's surface.

Images of dangling above a thousand-foot drop, of falling, of being tossed and roiled in a torrent, great chunks of ice and rocks and trees skimming mere inches from his face and swirled before his eyes, making him dizzy, sick . . . Robin dropped to his hands and knees as he panted through what he knew was just a panic attack. That was all it was . . . a panic attack! He wasn't dying! He wasn't . . .

Eventually he felt something block the stiff breeze and large hands were gripping his shoulders. Batman . . . When had Batman realized he hadn't followed and returned?

"Robin! Robin, can you hear me?"

Robin had the feeling that this wasn't the first time he had been asked that. His mouth was so dry he didn't think he could answer so Robin nodded his head.

"What happened? Are you sick?"

It would be so easy to just nod his head, then Batman would take him back home but what then? Go to bed? Robin knew that those images would be there in his subconscious, waiting.

Almost as if he read Robin's mind, Batman pulled him up and against his chest. He wrapped his cape around the boy to protect him from prying eyes. They didn't want to advertise Robin's weakness if they could help it.

"It's the nightmare, isn't it?" Batman asked him. "You remember falling."

"I remember it all," he whispered into the Kevlar armor. He looked up worriedly. "I can't fly anymore, Batman! I can't fly!"

The cowl hit Bruce's expression but Robin saw Batman's lips tighten in response to his claim. After a moment, he nodded.

"I'll take you home for now," he told him, "but I won't let you give up just yet. There are things we can do to help you work through this. Let's give it a shot before writing yourself off, shall we?"

Robin nodded, shakily. "O-Okay."

Batman stood and watched closely as Robin followed him, ready to assist if he needed it again. The boy's feet slowed as they made their way back to the roof's edge, this time on the alley-side where they had parked the Batmobile.

"Do you need help going down?" Batman asked him quietly. "You can use the fire escape if you want or I can take you down using the grapple."

Robin glanced back at the door that led to the building's interior staircase longingly, but he knew that was out of the question. The less that knew about his weakness the better. He sighed. That meant getting down the side of the building by himself. He comforted himself, too, with the knowledge that Bruce would work with him at home to overcome this sudden, irrational fear he had developed.

Okay, maybe it wasn't completely irrational considering what he had gone through, but he had done all this before. All his life, Robin had flown. On the trapeze, off of buildings and skyscrapers . . . even once out of a cannon. He wasn't giving that up now and being Robin depended on it. He would get through this thing, too.

Robin wasn't done yet . . . not by a long shot.

Now, if he could just make himself climb down this little, metal ladder . . .

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **This will be the last of the epilogues that I will post for this story. The rest I had just deleted out of hand. But, yeah, you can see where this would be a problem that would take a few chapters to fix and then it would need a new climax to make it non-bleh. (I made LR: Running Scared non-bleh, btw, so it is still a wonderful read if you love DaddyBats! and an amazing Robin recovery.) So, this particular version of "Derailment's" epilogue was a no-go very quickly.**

 **On the other hand, it was pretty interesting to me, nonetheless . . . What did _you_ think about it?**


	27. Then End - The Journey To Paradise

**I came so close to using this version. I still like it very much, but it needed tweaked to work properly. I wrote this when I was still imagining Hermes showing up with a flaming chariot to take them to Olympus. But then I thought, why would they need to go to Themyscira for that? He could pick them up from anywhere . . . And then I remembered the whole flaming chariot thing was Apollo's ride and why would Hermes be using it? Anyway, I ended up rewriting it as you all are aware. Still, you'll be able to see the similarities . . .**

 **The End of Everything - The Journey to Paradise**

 **Warnings:** **** If you HAVEN'T read "The End of Everything", this will have SPOILERS. Read the story first, please.**** **\- Rating: K**

* * *

"I told you the ravens would be no trouble," Diana told him. "We lost them shortly after takeoff. They couldn't keep up with the jet."

Batman grunted. It made him nervous. Not that he wasn't grateful to get rid of the birds, but he wasn't entirely sure what the Gray Woman's reaction would be. So far, they had found no storm clouds gathering.

"We could have taken the Batplane, you know," Batman answered instead.

He shifted Dickie's position onto his other shoulder. The boy was out cold. He didn't even wake up when Bruce had pulled him out from underneath the computer where he had been napping with the newest member of the family. He glanced over at Diana who was currently piloting her invisible plane with that newest family member tucked neatly on her lap. The pup had been too sleepy to give Wonder Woman the kind of enthusiastic greeting she might have normally and spared the Amazonian princess a tongue-bath.

"We could have," she agreed, "but, this way we don't annoy the inhabitants with a reminder that I brought men to Themyscira while we visit Olympus." One of Diana's hands continued to sweep over the pup's soft fur while she steered the jet with the other.

"Is there another way to reach Olympus besides going to Themyscira?" he asked. He preferred to avoid a scene while Dickie was with them. "Will you get into trouble for this?"

"This is the easiest and quickest method," she assured him. Her gaze dropped to the boy for a few seconds, softening at the sight. "It will be the safest route as well. As for trouble, any who oppose our passing through Themyscira can take it up with Zeus himself."

Batman nodded. He could live with that. "How do we get to Olympus once we reach the island?"

"Zeus is sending us an escort," Diana explained. "Normally, I could fly there, but it is too risky to do this with the three of you with me."

"How exactly is it riskier?"

"We wouldn't be able to take the jet. There is a barrier between earth and the gods, similar to the one protecting Themyscira from the world of men, but it is one that mortals aren't allowed to pass." She glanced at him. "What we are doing, Batman, it's a big deal. The last mortal to travel to Olympus was Hercules."

Batman frowned. "I thought Hercules was a demigod."

She nodded. "He was, but he was also mortal at the time."

"Is Dick in danger?"

Her hesitation made his gut tighten uncomfortably.

"I would have left Dick at the manor had I known this would be dangerous," he grumbled angrily.

"No. I'm certain he would have been summoned eventually as well. This will be less frightening for him than had Hermes shown up suddenly to transport him," Diana assured him. "Keep in mind, too, that with Dick present, you can petition Zeus to return the boy to his rightful age."

There was that. "Do you think he would be willing?"

"We won't know until we ask," she said, "but there is a good chance. Zeus doesn't like admitting there are gods who might be more powerful than he is. Helping us will appeal to his ego."

"And his memories? Can he return those, too?"

Wonder Woman frowned as she considered it. "I don't know," she answered truthfully.

"What good will it be for Dick to be returned to normal if he is still missing his memories? What if his mind remained that of a toddler, Di? If he cannot return Dick's memories to him, there would be no reason to return him to his correct age." Batman told her.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. There's the possibility that your Gray Goddess merely blocked his memories. If that's the case, there is a good chance that when we leave Olympus, Dick will be back to normal again," she said.

Batman fell silent. In his mind, however, he wondered if Dick would retain any memory of his time as a toddler or if this experience would be stripped from him in order to regain that which he had lost. Either way, the problems between them still existed. How would his son react once he returned to normal? Would Bruce even retain the right to call him his son after the debacle in the cave?

As anxious as he was for Dick get back his age and his memories, Bruce couldn't help worrying that Dick would reject him the moment he did. If so, he wouldn't even have cause to complain. He could lose his son just as easily this way as he would should the Gray Woman return for him.


End file.
